Twist of Fate
by Nudgy Turian
Summary: Eleven years have passed and things have not fared well in the Realm. The Children have long since disbanded, after having abandoned Dungeon Master and his manipulations. During the years that followed, good has slowly been consumed by evil...
1. Loss

**Twist of Fate  
A D&D Venger series by Tina Price**

**Loss  
**

**Preview:** Eleven years have passed and things have not fared well in the Realm. The Children have long since disbanded, after having abandoned Dungeon Master and his manipulations. During the years that followed, good has slowly been consumed by evil...

Now Sheila pays a visit to an old friend and ends up being thrown into the path of an old enemy.

**Disclaimer**: Dungeons & Dragons, Venger, all characters and images therein, as well as story elements put forth in the role playing game are the property of the Walt Disney Company, Marvel and TSR. Several characters appearing in this story are my own creation. Any similarity with anyone living or dead is purely coincidental.

**This Chaper is Rated G**

**Authors note**: Criticism and advice are always appreciated!

* * *

**Loss **

Another dry, miserable day was beginning in the town of Meridian as the morning coach arrived and its weary travelers quickly disembarked, eager to seek shelter from the climbing suns.

Amongst them was one who moved more slowly than the others, having learned the value of caution. She gathered her large traveling bag, tossing it over a shoulder and paused at the side of the street to look in both directions. To the west was the road they'd come in on, while to the east lay the Hills of Regret, home of The Citadel of Shadow, which was just visible over the peaks.

Pushing back the dark hood of her cloak, she revealed herself to be a young woman of perhaps twenty-four, with pale freckled skin and brilliant red-orange hair. Several of the coachmen stopped long enough in their chores to give her an appreciative once over, but she ignored them all.

With a sigh, she headed off towards the Citadel, her demeanor one of someone marching into the lion's den.

* * *

It was well past noon when she'd finished the treacherous climb to the Citadel. The town was clearly visible below when she stopped to catch her breath and drink a little of the water she'd brought along. It had to be well over one hundred degrees already.

Only the thought of the cool stones and air within the structure's walls gave her energy enough to ascend the massive stairs leading up to the entrance. Once there, she rapped on the massive wooden door with the iron knocking ring and a servant quickly let her inside.

"I'm here to see Kareena," she told the old man. "She sent for me."

"The lady has been expecting you; please follow me," the old man said, failing to bow his head to her, for he'd correctly surmised that she was not his superior.

Unfortunately, that was the way things were in the Realm, she reflected with a frown; very strict class systems were the norm here and she was one of the poor.

She followed him up several levels to the large door of Kareena's personal chamber, where the servant took his leave.

Before she could even knock, Kareena called out for her to enter and she slowly pushed the large door open. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the gloom and then she moved forward through the huge room, having spied her old friend in the over-sized bed on the far left of the chamber.

"Please sit next to me," Kareena said, patting the bed next to her. Then she took her hands. "I've missed you ever so much, Sheila!"

Sheila squeezed her friend's hands in return. "And I you," she replied, looking her over.

Kareena did not look as she remembered, for she now aged normally and although she might otherwise look to be Sheila's own age, illness had added years to her appearance. Her eyes were sunken, the skin around them dark and her cheeks were sunken. She looked wasted, gaunt and gray. Her hair, once a radiant golden color, looked like dry straw. Even her hand where it gripped her own looked like a claw.

Sheila felt a great pain well up within her as she realized that the rumors she's heard were true; her friend was dying.

"Don't cry, Sheila; please don't!" Kareena pleaded. "It is not so bad as all that. I may not look it, but I'm an old woman who has lived many, many lifetimes. I'm tired of this life, Sheila, and I welcome the next one wholeheartedly!"

Sheila nodded, but tears still slipped from her eyes. "I'm so sorry that I've stayed away so long," she said.

Her friend sighed. "I know why you had to. I know how difficult your life has been, Sheila; I've checked up on you when I could. I am sorry for not having been able to do more for you in years gone by and for bringing you out here now. Please forgive me; I so wanted to see you one last time."

That was when Sheila finally broke down and sobbed. "Isn't there anything that can be done?" she cried. "Surely Dungeon Master..."

"No!" Kareena cut her off. "Don't even think it; if he could help or was willing to do so, then he would have shown himself long since!"

"But he is your father!" she exclaimed. "How can he turn his back on you, on his daughter when she lies dying?"

Kareena turned her face away then and Sheila heard her stifle a sob of her own. "It is my time and saving me does not suit his plans, I'll wager." Then she looked back and lifted a hand to stroke Sheila's face. "You were kind to me when no one else was and when I deserved it least. I have a gift for you; one that I beg you to accept or I shall find no peace. Will you accept it?"

She nodded. "For you."

The woman in the bed clutched her right hand and slid off a beautiful red ring, then offered it up. "This is to be yours until he who holds your heart finds you again. Only then will the two of you be able to start over."

Sheila gaped at her as she took the proffered ring. "The Ring of the Heart? I don't understand, Kareena; are you saying the ring is supposed to be mine?"

The blond woman smiled. "The ring finds its own wearer. It cannot be taken by force. You slipped it from my finger once, but only because it was indeed meant to be yours. It is your destiny to wear it once more. Please put it on."

"But I've never worn it before," Sheila protested as she slipped it onto the third finger of her right hand. To her amazement the ring vanished; nor could she feel it any longer.

Kareena nodded. "It hides when it must. I don't think I need mention that you should never let my brother know you have it."

She shook her head in agreement. "I don't know what to say..."

Kareena again took her hand. "Then say that you will grant me my last request of you."

"Name it."

The dying woman hesitated. "It concerns my brother..."

"Venger? What about him?" she asked warily. "I thought you had nothing to do with him anymore…"

Kareena nodded. "That is true. Not long after you freed me from evil, he sent his shadow demon to tell me to stay away from him and he would turn a blind eye to my existence." She searched her face, as though gauging her receptiveness to the coming request, then sighed and spoke, "I've summoned him, not because I want his help or his sympathy, but because I want him here when I die. Sheila, I've sensed a change in him lately; he has grown as weary as I of living. My request is that you go with him when he leaves here."

"What! Are you insane?" Sheila sprang to her feet. "Go with Venger? To what purpose; so that he can torture and kill me?"

Kareena shook her head. "No; so that you can redeem him! If he is hesitating in fulfilling his destiny, then now is the time to act! Don't you see; he is the key to everything! As he goes, so goes the Realm. If he should die… all will be lost!"

"You think that I can change him?" Sheila laughed long and hard, much bitterness spilling out of her at the irony of such a thing. "I couldn't even save my brother, Kareena; how am I supposed to save yours?"

"Nevertheless, promise me that given the opportunity, you will go with him," Kareena pressed. "Only by undertaking this task will you find the man I spoke of earlier; the one you are meant to be with. He is somewhere in Venger's castle and your ring will lead you to him."

She remained silent.

"Please, Sheila? It is my only request of you; my final one."

With both fear and hope at war inside her, Sheila nodded. "OK. Besides, it's not like I have anything or anyone home worth returning to."

Her friend smiled. "I've procured a room for you at the Blue Shade Inn. Everything is being taken care of, so have a nice bath and a hearty meal. I will have word sent to you regarding the promise you've made."

Here she held her arms out and Sheila embraced her tenderly. When they parted, they were both crying. "Don't forget me," Kareena whispered.

"I never will!" Sheila broke from her and ran from the room. It was only when she reached the great hall before the front door that she stopped and tried to compose herself. Leaning her head on the cool stonewall, she hiccuped and wiped away her tears. Then, with a few more sniffs, she threw her bag over her shoulder and let herself out.

Surprised and shocked, she saw Venger's Nightmare standing on the landing far below while the fiend himself ascended the stairs towards her. With as much dignity as she could manage, she held her head high and descended the steps, intent upon ignoring him.

* * *

He might have flown up to the landing or even to Kareena's balcony, but for once he settled on a more mundane arrival; after all this was a solemn occasion and it never hurt to keep the masses guessing about him. And so he left his steed near the base of the steps, a guard that the rabble were unlikely to attempt passing and started up the steps to his sister's home.

As he neared the midpoint landing, he noted with some surprise that a woman was coming down the stairs despite his presence. On the landing he actually stopped to watch her, not bothering to conceal the fact that he stared.

She was long limbed but with pleasing curves and she moved in an unhurried, graceful manner down the stairs. She was wearing a long, burgundy colored dress and her red hair hung past her hips, bouncing behind her as she descended. She had a large sack thrown over one shoulder and seemed completely unconcerned by his presence.

It had been centuries since a woman displayed so calm an air in his company…

She was a vision of beauty and he found himself instantly intrigued; there was something very familiar about this woman as well…

As she reached the landing she had the actual audacity to meet his eyes and he saw at once that she'd been crying. Normally he would have found the sign of such weakness annoying at best, but she wore her tears almost proudly; as though daring anyone to judge her by them… and that was something he admired.

Who was she? It seemed obvious that she'd just seen his sister. It was as she broke their eye contact and turned her head that he recognized her as the little thief, now all grown up.

To his own surprise he paid her a small compliment, showing his admiration by bowing his head ever so slightly to her. He only continued on his way once she'd moved past him and begun descending the final flight of stairs.

As it was, he only made it up a few more stairs before turning to catch one last look at her. To his surprise, his mount not only let her pass, but neighed in friendly recognition.

He found himself watching her until she disappeared on the path through the hills.

* * *

Sheila's heart beat so quickly that she feared she would faint as she hurried down the path towards town.

She could not believe that she'd not only defied the self-styled Lord of the Realm by failing to show him any deference, but that she would live to tell the tale! And topping it off was the polite acknowledgement he had made her after she'd had the cheek to actually look him in the eye.

She was still confused by what she'd seen briefly reflected in those crimson eyes; surprise... and appreciation as well.

Perhaps Kareena was right; Venger did seem changed. The fiend he once was would not have hesitated to flail her alive for her disrespect just now.

Stopping briefly to splash some water on her face and compose herself, she then picked up the pace, eager to reach the safety of the Inn.

* * *

"I am here, little sister."

Kareena tried to sit up a bit in her bed, but was too weak to do so. How like her huge sibling to announce himself so theatrically!

"Welcome brother," she replied as he approached the bed. One look at his face was enough to make her want to cry again. Why did she keep expecting to see her reflection in him, only to be greeted instead by the fiend he had become?"

* * *

He hadn't seen his sister in many years, hadn't even thought of her in nearly as long, yet when she'd requested his presence, he'd suddenly had the strangest premonition that her end was near. Seeing the thief's tears had confirmed his suspicions and now he found himself face to face with the truth.

Hardly thinking twice about it, he sat on the bed close to her and studied her face. That face; he'd known it all his life. They'd once looked remarkably alike. How bitterly ironic that now, at the end of her days, they again shared some resemblance; her skin was a bluish tint, her nose pinched, her eyes bloodshot. It filled him with a grief he did not know he was still capable of.

They were one flesh; twins brought into this life together… and although they hadn't been close in many years, still he felt the tug of their birth bond. He was about to lose the last reminder of his humanness.

* * *

For her part, Kareena merely stared back at him as though waiting for him to speak. When long minutes passed and he still had not said anything, she took the lead. "Will you miss me, brother? Are you still capable of that at least?"

Still, he remained silent, turning his head to look instead towards the balcony.

"Though you cannot or will not say so, I can see in your eyes that you will," she finally continued. "It has been eleven lifetimes since we shared the closeness we once had," she continued. "I have one request to make of you before I die and I can only hope that you will grant it based upon that closeness that once lived within us."

"Kareena, before I hear your request, answer me this; what foulness has done this to you? From whence came this fell malady?" 

She closed her eyes and tried vainly to stop the tears that leaked from them, then looked straight at him and said, "From you. It is the work of a spell you cast years ago on the town of Greylake. Do you not remember it?"

He came quickly to his feet. "Impossible! The spell was meant to cause famine and hardship, then dissipate!"

"And it did exactly what you wished it to, but not in the way you intended," she replied. "The earthlings come from a world based upon knowledge and technology and the Ranger was first to help identify what must have happened. Your spell mutated, changed the very foundation of micro-organisms in the area. They in turn destroyed the crops and the livestock and then mutated further into forms that attacked the human inhabitants." She stopped and coughed violently before collapsing weakly back into her pillows.

"Plague, brother, is what you unleashed. And it is one with no known cure in this world. Neither magic nor our primitive medicines affect it. The majority of those who catch it these days survive, but some do not..."

He stared at her in shock. "How many? What is the extent of the damage and why was I not told of this?"

"The plague you wrought has claimed untold lives; nearly every inhabitant of Greylake and thousands in the surrounding areas. Meridian was the last town to be ravished by it. I managed to contain it by quarantining the town and all its people, but while putting the magical barriers in place, I too was infected. It would seem that I shall be its last known victim." Seeing the look on his face she quickly added, "Be at ease; you are here because I am no longer contagious."

"And why was I not told? I might have countered it before it came to this!"

She sighed. "Or you might have made it worse. Face it, brother; your subjects would rather take their chances with the plague you set off than risk your aid."

It was a bitter pill to swallow, even for him and he did what he did best; feigned indifference. "Bah! Then the fools got what they deserved in the end."

Kareena sighed as she watched her brother's face grow cold and hard. "Yes," she breathed. "I suppose we did."

That got to him. His face softened as he again sat beside her on the bed and for a moment at least she thought she saw her twin again. "Not you, little sister," he breathed, his voice dropping into an even lower register. "Your bravery has saved the Realm further ravage, but at the cost of your own life."

To her surprise he brushed a few stray strands of her hair away from her face. "Now tell me; what is this last request you wish to make of me?"

"It concerns a dear friend of mine."

"The thief?" he asked, looking amused.

"She has a name, Venger." He raised a finely arched eyebrow and she sighed. "Her name is Sheila and she has suffered much in the years since the earthlings turned away from Dungeon Master."

She could see that she was losing him by the sneer on his face and decided to come to her point. "I want you to take her in."

At his disbelieving look she added, "I want you to look after her; to protect her from our father and those who would use her."

He stood, suddenly agitated and angry, his wings flaring out. "You dare too much!" he snarled. "You would have me fetter myself with her; she who was once my enemy?"

"I have not asked you to be kind to her or even to associate with her," she responded. "I ask only that you not harm her; that you give her shelter and some protection. Besides, you have much in common…"

"What do you mean?" he asked, calming somewhat.

"Sheila was abandoned by her lover and then lost her brother, while you, dear brother were also abandoned by your lover and are soon to lose your sister."

He walked to the window and watched the suns setting on the horizon as he folded his wings, apparently deep in thought.

"Will you do this for me, brother?" she pressed, after several silent minutes had ticked by.

"You are up to something, my dear little sister," he replied. "But I daresay that I've little to fear from the likes of her, so I will do as you ask."

"And I will put in a good word for you when I cross over to the other side," she whispered.

They stared warily at each other in the gloom as the light faded around them.

**  
Next time: Gain**


	2. Gain

**Gain**

Sheila did as Kareena asked and remained at the Inn awaiting further word.

On her second morning there she dressed and headed down to the dining hall only to find the place abuzz with new that her friend had passed away during the early morning hours.

"Is it quite certain?" she asked the Inn Keeper dejectedly.

"Oh yes; Venger sent his Shadow Demon into town to make the announcement," he replied.

"And the funeral; has there been any word about when or where it may occur?" she asked.

"It is to be a private affair attended to by Lord Venger. We were given no further information on the matter," he replied glumly. "It is a shame; that lady was good to this town and I'm certain that many would have wished to pay her their respects."

Sheila nodded as she fought to remain composed. "I don't suppose that anyone has arrived with a message for me?"

When the man shook his head, she returned to her room and cried until she fell into a fitful sleep. Even then, her dreams were of sitting on a rock near a lake with Kareena and laughing together. She didn't awaken until after dark, when thirst and hunger finally drove her down to the dining hall.

There, she took a seat at one of the tables near the window, farthest from the fireplace and ordered some stew and a glass of water.

The dining hall filled quickly after that and by the time her meal arrived there were few seats left. From what she learned during her stay there, the Inn was well known for it's excellent food and more often than not the dining hall was packed in the evening.

"Dining alone?" came a course voice from near her shoulder.

She looked up to find a large, slovenly, sun-browned man hovering over her. He stunk as though he hadn't bathed in weeks and he leered at her in a most disconcerting way.

"Yes," she sniffed, turning away to ignore him.

"Well, you got me to keep you company now," he laughed, taking the seat beside her.

"Do as you please," she replied, then nearly choked as he grabbed her thigh under the table.

Before she could even react, a hand landed on the man's shoulder and he was instantly dragged from the bench.

"That is no way to treat a woman," came the deep voice of her rescuer.

He had long, light brown hair, deep blue eyes, a strong jaw line and a face covered with a smattering of freckles. And although his manner of dress was simple, his rich fur-edged cloak, good boots and the bow he carried on his back announced him to be a Hunter. He was a large, well built man; though smaller and leaner than the piggish man he seemed to have in some sort of arm lock.

"Out you go!" he exclaimed as he propelled the man to the door. "You'll be dining elsewhere this night; unless you're like to step outside and fight me?"

The man didn't answer, but ran off in a cowardly manner the moment he was released.

She watched apprehensively as her savior approached her, but the concerned look he gave her instantly put her at ease.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yes. Thank-you so much for the rescue," she replied.

He gave her a small smile. "Oh, it was my pleasure to throw him out, I assure you!" Then he bowed. "Nate Harbenger at your service, Ma'am."

"My name is Sheila," she replied, then indicated the place beside her at the table. "Please have a seat."

He did. "Sheila, did you say?" At her nod, he continued, "I thought it might be you from the description I was given. It turns out that you are who I was sent to find."

"Are you from the Citadel, then?" she asked, her heart skipping a beat.

He nodded. "I am. Lord Venger has sent me to fetch you back. You've been invited to attend his sister's funeral pyre tonight."

She dropped her eyes to her untouched bowl of stew and gathered her courage. Kareena had wanted her to do what she could for Venger and now she'd been invited into his presence. Looking up she met Nate's concerned gaze. "When am I to arrive?"

"How about if we leave dinner?" he replied. "There is no tremendous rush and I'm quite famished."

She smiled at him. "Then please allow me to buy your meal. It's the least I can do after your timely rescue."

"All right," he said with a grin.

As they ate, the chatted amicably about a wide range of topics, although few questions were asked and little personal information was given.

Finally, Sheila's curiosity got the better of her; she found Nate to be both attractive and friendly and couldn't help but wonder if he was the man Kareena told her she was destined to be with.

"Do you work for Venger?" she asked during a lull in their conversation.

He scowled. "Lord Venger," he corrected.

She stared at him. "I guess that's a yes, then," she breathed.

He sighed as well, the scowl disappearing. "I am merely trying to keep you out of danger. Best that you practice saying it now so that you do not slip up in his presence."

"So, how did you come to be in his employ?" she continued.

"Stubborn, eh?" he observed. "And proud as well, I see." He shook his head. "Please remember what I said and swallow your pride around him, especially if others are present. I've seen people skinned alive for such insolence and I would hate to see that happen to a nice young lady such as yourself!"

She dropped her gaze away from his concerned one. "I will do as you suggest."

"Then I shall answer your question," he smirked. "I am in Lord Venger's service, but only because I was indentured as a young man to pay off my family's debts. They made a deal with him rather than forfeit their lands and he agreed because my tracking abilities are of great service to him."

"And do you always travel with him?"

"Not usually. Most of the time I am sent off on assignments that do not require his presence. This time was unusual to say the least."

As she made to question him further, he held up a hand. "Ask me no more questions for I cannot reveal more than I already have. Now, if you are done eating we should be on our way. Collect your things and I shall meet you outside."

Standing, he held out a hand and helped her to her feet. Strangely, she felt the Ring of the Heart suddenly pulse on her finger when their hands met. Her conviction that he was the man she was destined to be with increased, though she still was not quite sure what to make of him.

* * *

After gathering her things, Sheila found Nate waiting for her out front next to his horse; a very large buckskin that nickered at her in a friendly manner.

"I think he likes you," the hunter observed as she cautiously approached and rubbed the horse's head.

"He's very handsome," she replied. "What's his name?"

"No idea." At her startled look he added, "He's not mine. He's on loan to me only long enough for me to fetch you."

He helped her onto the horse and then startled her by mounting up behind her. "You didn't expect me to walk, I hope?" he laughed.

She felt herself blush, both at her stupidity and at his nearness. Although he sat far back of her, occasionally their thighs would bump together as the horse trotted along.

The trip was made quickly and in relative silence, neither of them saying much and by the time the moons were at their zenith, they stood at the base of the Citadel stairs.

Nate dismounted and then helped her down. "It was a pleasure meeting you," he said as he bowed and then began to lead the horse away.

"Wait!" she called, in a panic. "Aren't you going to bring me to… him?"

Nate actually frowned at her. "He will meet you in Kareena's audience chamber. From the way you greeted him on the stairs the other day I expected you to show more courage now."

"How do you know of that?" she asked, shocked, by his mention of it.

"He told me of it when he sent me to fetch you. T'was he who insisted that I warn you to address him properly this time," he replied with a smirk. Then his expression softened and he made one last bow. "Take heart Sheila. Be the strong person you are and all will go well for you. Only remember that there is a difference between strength and stupidity."

Then he led the stallion around the base of the Citadel and out of sight.

With a sigh, Sheila started up the stairs, her courage bolstered quite a bit by the hunter's words.

Once again she knocked on the large wooden door once she reached it, but this time it was answered by an orc in servant's garb and she had to stifle the shriek that nearly escaped her at the surprise.

"You come this way," it grunted at her and then turned and began leading the way. Once at the large audience chamber it pointed into the room and narrowed its beady pig-like eyes at her. "You wait here. No touch anything!"

With a gulp, she moved inside and then froze when she saw the enormous, ornate casket at the center of the room. A garden's worth of night blooming vines snaked around the platform it lay upon, encircling it with fragrant purple-black blooms.

Without thinking, she dropped her sack and moved towards it, stopping only when she saw that it was indeed Kareena's body positioned peacefully on the silk cushions within. She didn't know how long she stood there, staring at her friend's remains as memories overcame her and tears tracked down her cheeks, but quite some time later a strange fluttering sound made her jump and turn around.

Venger stood in the room behind her, folding his wings over his shoulders. And as on the steps a few days previously, his face was thankfully devoid of both malice and spite.

She stood her ground, waiting for him to speak and was surprised when he walked up to stand beside her, his eyes also taking in the casket.

"All is as she wished it," he said, his voice pitched softly. "It is time to bid her adieu." His eyes moved side wise to glance at her. "Are you ready?"

She nodded. "Who will be there?" she dared to ask.

"Just us. All is exactly as she wished it." He turned and headed for the doorway, then spoke over his shoulder. "Come along."

Confused, she followed him through the citadel and up several long flights of stairs until they finally exited on the top of the tallest tower. She quickly noticed the large pyre that had been prepared there and realized that Kareena had wished to be cremated.

Moving forward, Venger raised his hands upwards and towards the pyre even as his wings flared out behind him in reflexive counterbalance. Words of power boomed from him and Kareena's casket appeared atop the stacked wood. As he again raised his hands, intent upon casting one last spell, Sheila ran forward.

"Wait!" she cried.

He lowered his arms and stared at her as though shocked that she would dare to interrupt him, but she shook her head. "One of us should say something in her memory."

He blinked and sneered in that way only he could, baring sharp teeth. "Then you had best say it and be quick about it," he growled.

Sheila thought for a moment and then spoke in a strong voice, "Be mindful, O Lord, of all those who have fallen asleep in the hope of resurrection unto life eternal, especially Kareena; pardon all her transgressions both voluntary and involuntary, whether in word or deed or thought and shelter her in a place of verdure, a place of repose, whence all sickness, sorrow and sighing have fled away. Amen."

She then nodded at Venger, who's mouth was set in a tight, grim line and he cast the spell which set the pyre burning.

They both were driven back to the edges of the tower by the intense magical heat and stood there bearing witness for the hour it took the pyre to burn itself out. Then Venger again cast another spell and those bits of bone and dust which were all that remained of Kareena's earthly form were encased in a box of blue marble. With a wave of his hand he made it disappear from sight.

"Her remains will be interred at the ancient burial site of our family," he explained, then turned to face her as she began moving towards the stairs. "Our business is not yet done, little thief," he said."Tell me; where will you go when you leave here?"

At the startled look she gave him, he smirked. "Ah, so Kareena did make a last request of you as well; one involving me, perchance?"

She decided that it would be foolish indeed to try to lie to him, so she twisted the truth instead. "Yes. She wanted me to... look after you," she breathed.

He moved closer and gave her a measuring look, before turning his back to her and folding his arms across his chest. "What if I told you that I promised her that I would 'look after' you as well?"

She bowed her head, shook it and smiled in a self-depreciating way just as he looked back at her.

"What is it?"

"I had enough of your lies and evil bargains when I was a child to last me a lifetime" She sighed. "Why ever would you offer me your protection now; even if your sister did ask it of you?"

He again turned to face her. "I hear that things have not gone well for you since you turned away from the Dungeon Master," he said, then continued in a conspiratorial tone, "As one who was once in similar circumstances, I know that he has since manipulated your life; attempting to make it more difficult than you can bear and all so that you would return to his service. Nor will it end there, little thief; he may in fact make your life worse… much worse. Should you stay with me, under my roof, I can protect you from his further manipulations."

"So, you're going to help protect me from him? What is it that you get out of this? I know it must be something."

"Foiling him would be payment enough for me!" he spat. "Do not make the mistake of thinking I do this out of concern for you or out of a sense of familial duty; I offer you only the safe haven of my home, nothing more! Now, what is your decision?"

In truth, she'd always meant to keep her promise to Kareena, so there was only one way in which to answer him. "I accept your offer. Besides, it isn't like I had anywhere else to go."

He actually smiled in a triumphant manner. "So I've heard." His wings flared out dramatically, creating an impressive draft as he lifted his arms high. "Let us be on our way, then!"

The very air lit up brightly around them and when it faded she saw that they stood at the base of the citadel once more. Venger's Nightmare was there with her traveling sack flung over it's back.

The demon horse neighed at her, bringing a sour look to Venger's face. He pointed a finger at her then flicked it towards the Nightmare and she shrieked as she lost her footing only to find herself lifted atop the steed.

Before she could even compose herself, Venger had mounted up behind her. Unlike the gentlemanly hunter, the fiend intentionally pressed against her, his thighs nearly covering her own, his chest against her back. The feel of his body heat made her blush deeply.

His evil chuckle reverberated close behind her as one of his arms snaked around to take up the reins. "A nightmare is no typical horse," he laughed. "So you must allow me some liberty with this delightful body of yours... unless, of course, you prefer to risk falling off?"

Angered that he picked up on her consternation so easily, she managed to steady her voice and sound completely unconcerned when she replied, "It would take more of a man than you to get me flustered while riding double! Nevertheless, thank you for seeing to it that I ride safely."

There was silence behind her, broken only by a few deep breaths. Was he trying to keep his temper?

When he finally spoke, his voice was pitched low, but calm, "If you refer to the hunter, then I should caution you that things are not always as they seem, little thief. He may seem a good and proper man to you, but his past holds dark secrets and you would do well to avoid him whenever possible."

"Look who's talking!" she snapped, turning so that she could look up at him. "What exactly did he do; hunt on your lands for some poor family?"

His eyes narrowed. "He killed his wife," he said without preamble.

She was literally stunned. "You lie...!"

"Bah! What is it to me what you do with him? I said I would protect you and I have done what I can where the hunter is concerned. If you wish to ignore my advice, then so be it!"

He kicked the Nightmare and they were instantly catapulted into the air, Sheila flung backwards against the unyielding chest behind her. Her eyes now facing front, she grabbed a handful of the horse's mane and held on for dear life, suddenly grateful for Venger's restraining legs.

**Next: In the Castle of Venger **


	3. In the Castle of Venger

**Episode 2: In the Castle of Venger**

**Disclaimer**: Dungeons & Dragons, Venger, all characters and images therein, as well as story elements put forth in the role playing game are the property of the Walt Disney Company, Marvel and TSR. Several characters appearing in this story are my own creation. Any similarity with anyone living or dead is purely coincidental.

**This Chaper is Rated PG**

**Authors note**: Criticism and advice are always appreciated!

* * *

**In the Castle of Venger**

Sheila was amazed at the speed at which they traveled. Apparently Demon horses could traverse half the Realm in only an hour's time. The land blurred by beneath them, as did the clouds.

She should have been cold, she realized, but somehow she wasn't. Venger seemed to give off an unnatural warmth behind her or perhaps it was the result of some sort of shielding spell he used to keep the elements at bay. Considering how close she was to him, it seemed certain that she would be within its circle of influence.

Sooner than she ever would have expected, they descended, landing before the main entrance of Venger's Primary Castle. It was the largest and most heavily fortified of the structures he used as bases across the Realm and rumor had it that it had always belonged to his family.

Venger dismounted but it was a servant who handed her down from the Nightmare as the master of the house strode away. To her amazement he spread his wings before reaching the steps and flew up to one of the upper balconies.

"I didn't know he could actually fly," she breathed.

"He can indeed," grunted the man who had helped her down and was now unsaddling the demon horse. "Grab your things and come with me. I'll hand you off to the housekeepers after I've got this fellow settled."

With one last glance at the balcony where Venger had vanished, she turned and followed the stable hand.

* * *

From the throne room's balcony, Venger was able to stand in the shadows and observe the earth woman's surprised reaction. He had to admit that he'd greatly enjoyed her discomfort at his proximity during their travels, just as he'd enjoyed revealing that his wings were not simply for show.

No doubt, having her around would prove entertaining. And if not; well he had ways of charming women into entertaining him in other ways...

He watched as she followed his groom, enjoying the way her hips moved beneath the cloth of her dress. Then he shook his head and berated himself. She was beneath his notice and hardly worth the trouble of seducing, love spell or not.

It had been a lifetime at least since he'd last indulged in the pleasures of the flesh, having long since lost an interest such fornications. Too many lifetimes of such dalliances had left him bored with the act as well as the fallout.

He'd found his life so much less complicated since he'd stopped partaking in that mortal ritual!

Still... there was something about this woman that he found appealing; far too appealing! "Bah!" he growled. "In the end she will prove no different than the others; a weak toy good for only a moment's diversion!"

Yet, she had managed to awaken his libido and he wondered at why that should be so. Perhaps it had something to do with the way she'd looked at him on the stairs and at the funeral pyre; a demonstration of a strong will and spirit... Or perhaps it was that she seemed to challenge him directly?

"Shadow Demon!" he roared.

"Yes Master?" came the entity's voice as it slipped into the light.

"Once our new guest has slept, invite her to dine with me tomorrow evening," he commanded.

"And where shall that be, Great Venger?" the demon asked subserviently.

"Have the meal served upon my terrace," he answered. "Now leave me and see to it I am not disturbed except in the most dire of circumstances!"

The shadow demon vanished and Venger instantly teleported to his chambers, intent upon seeking his bed.

* * *

Sheila followed the groom to the stables, which were built into the base of the Castle and waited while he saw to the Nightmare. By the time he collected her and shepherded her to the head housekeeper, she was exhausted and barely functional, despite all the frightening guards she had seen along the way.

The housekeeper was a large, frightening woman, with a permanent scowl and a cruel disposition. The groom had introduced her as Mrs. Trundle before he went back to his chores.

Trundle looked her up and down, curling her lip in distaste. "So the Master brought home a guest; an actual guest rather than a prisoner," she huffed, her hands on her ample hips. "This is highly irregular; its never happened before in all the years I've served him! What are you to him, anyway?"

Sheila drew herself up then and stared down her nose at the woman. She'd learned the hard way over the years how to deal with such people. "Perhaps I should tell him that you wish an explanation," she said sweetly, yet dangerously. She knew her attitude and intimation of an actual connection to Venger would smooth things for her with the staff.

She wasn't disappointed; Tuttle instantly dropped the attitude and backed up a step. "Sorry, Missus," she said in a contrite tone. "Can't blame a person for being curious in the face of such a surprise..."

Sheila sniffed. "Very well, we shall forget it happened; this time. Now if you please, I'm weary and would like to see my room. I shall call for a tour of my new home in the morning."

This time Tuttle actually made a small curtsy. "If you'll follow me," she said.

* * *

She awoke late in the morning and stretched pleasurably in her luxurious bed. It was wider and longer than even king sized and the mattress was soft and springy; a miracle of sorts in a world where most beds were still made of bound straw. The sheets were silky feeling without being slippery and the blankets were thick, but light.

Her eyes wandered around the room, truly appreciating it now that daylight had illuminated it. Large, with light colored marble floors and columns complimenting the sandstone walls, it contained ornately carved wooden furniture and cozy area rugs. Wall sconces and lanterns were liberally placed throughout, something she had appreciated in the spooky gloom of her first night there.

One wall had three very large windows, set together and far taller than they were wide. They had no glass and were quite open, for the weather in this part of the world was always warm and saw little rain and even fewer storms. Set before the window was a table with two chairs.

There was a sudden knock on the huge wooden door, which made her jump and then a female voice called out, "Lady, I've brought your breakfast; may I enter?"

"Yes," she called back.

A middle aged woman entered with a small cart and made for the table, which she set with a single place serving before covering the remainder of the table in covered dishes. Then she curtsied. "Will there be anything else?" she asked.

Sheila shook her head, overwhelmed by the royal treatment she was receiving and the woman left. Climbing from the bed and dressed only in her thin muslin shift, walked to the table and began looking under the lids.

They had served her a feast of almost anything she might like for her first meal of the day!

Staring out the window, she was surprised to see that it overlooked a huge courtyard garden filled with some of the most beautiful plants in the Realm.

She sank down into a chair and reflected that living in Venger's Castle would be more dangerous than she ever imagined, because she could quickly learn to like it too much.

* * *

Venger awoke quite late in the day, bathed and then dressed lightly in breeches, tunic and boots as he awaited the light snack he had called for. He typically remained awake for days on end and then slept a good span of time. It had been so almost since he'd first... changed. In truth he was surprised that this time he was awake before nightfall.

Walking over to his balcony as his meal arrived, he stood before the low railing and indulged himself in the garden view. It was his favorite place in all the Realm; a place where he and Kareena had spent untold hours as children, laughing and chasing each other. It was a place of calm and happy memories and he still retreated there when he needed to escape his problems. No expense had been spared in keeping it exactly as it once was.

The blind man, Stephos, who was his personal servant, finished setting the balcony table and asked if he required anything else.

"I should like my black leggings and fine silver accoutrements this evening," he replied. "See to it that they are dusted off and freshened."

The man bowed and left the room.

Before Venger could seat himself, he heard the sound of laughter coming from the garden and stared in shock as the little thief came into view and then dodged behind a large flowering dragonsheart plant. There came a loud snort and his Nightmare trotted into view.

The demon horse backed up and then silently swung around the far side of the main garden path. In the next instant, he'd leaped directly behind the plant where the woman was concealed.

She squealed with laughter as the two emerged, walking side by side back to the path.

He stared, agog at the sight. Was his steed playing tag with the thief? It could not be! Sudden memories of an eerily similar circumstance with the horse flashed through his mind, leaving him frozen in disbelief.

* * *

Sheila rubbed the Nightmare's nose and offered him a vegetable she'd hidden in her pocket. "To you go the spoils," she giggled, pleased beyond reasoning that this creature had approached her and indulged her in a game of hide-and-seek. "I didn't know that Nightmares like to play games," Then she sighed, "I wish I knew your name..."

Just then she happened to glance up and saw a man with long midnight black hair looking down at her from a balcony. It was only as her eyes adjusted to the glare of the sun that she realized that it was Venger and that he was looking at her with an expression of absolute shock upon his face!

She gasped as she stared back. Gone was his armor and skirt; he wore gray colored breeches, red boots and an orange tunic that covered him to the hips. His hair hung past his waist and was as thick, straight and glossy as an Asian's. He wore it without a part; it was brushed straight back from his forehead and tucked back of his ears, which turned out to be pointy. Of the single horn there was no sign, so thankfully it was indeed a part of his helmet and not of him.

Amazingly, from a distance he looked like an attractive man, rather than the fiend he was.

Somehow she managed to recover before he did and she made him a quick curtsy before heading out of the garden with her new four-legged friend.

* * *

Venger's mouth shut with an audible snap after his guest disappeared from sight.

"Shadow Demon!" he bellowed.

"Yes Master?" came the immediate answer from the dark shadows near his door.

"The earth woman; does she remind you of anyone?"

The demon thought a moment. "She only reminds me of the young girl she once was," he finally replied. "Is there something wrong, Master? Shall I watch her for you?"

Venger sat, a scowl appearing on his face. "No. It is nothing," he hissed. "And you may watch, but you are not to invade her private chambers, is that understood?"

The demon looked disappointed. "Yes Master."

Venger poured himself some tea and took a scone from the basket. "Did you deliver my invitation?"

"Yes master."

He looked up with interest. "And?"

"She said that she would be honored."

"Good. At the appointed time escort her here." He took a bite of the bread and sipped his tea then turned his attention back to his servant. "Aside from cavorting with my Nightmare, what else has she been up to today?"

The Demon bobbed before him, glad to be given the chance to prove his worth. "She has spent the day exploring the ground level of the castle and has already managed to win the respect of the cooks and housekeepers."

"How?" he asked sharply, as he finished off the scone.

"She has cultivated an air of authority, for they are uncertain of her status, but recognize that her presence is something quite out of the ordinary," the demon explained. "But she has also shown the kitchen staff that she possesses a knowledge of cooking and an appreciation for their efforts with her meal this morning. I daresay that she has become the only topic of their gossip today!"

Finishing his second cup of tea, Venger leaned back in his chair. "And how did she come to be with my Nightmare?"

"Master, your steed went to her, not she to it!"

"Explain."

"She had just exited the kitchens and was crossing the courtyard when the Nightmare broke free of its groom and flew to her. He landed in the courtyard and not even the groom, when he caught up could entice the horse to leave her. She promised that she would deliver him back to the stables after she spent a little time with him."

Venger stood suddenly, "Leave me."

After the Shadow Demon dissipated, he set to dressing. He had things to do before the evening meal and it would be counterproductive at the moment to keep puzzling over the mystery of the thief and demon horse.

* * *

Sheila walked the Nightmare all the way back to the stables as dozens of eyes watched with undisguised curiosity.

As the horse entered its stall without protest the groom appeared near her side. "I've never in all my years seen him do such a thing before," he said, scratching his head. "Although there is a tale of long ago when there lived in this place a woman much loved by this steed."

"What happened to her?" Sheila asked, instantly excited by the groom's words.

He shook his head. "It is said that she died at the hands of her lover and the Nightmare nearly pined away; for demon or not, it loved the lady." He threw the bolt on the stall's door even as the Nightmare threw its head over the top and nuzzled her affectionately.

"Wow..." she breathed.

"Indeed," he replied. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have chores to see to." With a bow he was gone.

She walked back down the corridor leading to the courtyard, wondering what to do with herself before she needed to get ready for dinner. "Dinner with Venger," she breathed. "Eww!"

Emerging in the courtyard, she looked upwards and spied the three Castle turrets and single, tall tower. Her eyes were drawn back to the tower. The climb wouldn't be pleasant, but the view of the coming sunset would make it well worth it.

With a shrug she decided that she would arrange to be there at sunset. In the meantime, she headed in the direction of the main staircase, intent upon exploring the second floor.

* * *

Venger leaned upon the tower stones and looked out over the Realm. He'd had a full day already, having spent several hours in the audience chamber hearing the news from his servants and toadies and then overseeing the torture of several new prisoners. After dinner he would be heading out to a rebellious town in the northern mountains; something that had only just become necessary based upon the news he'd received from one of his generals.

He sighed as he looked down at the courtyard far below. His life had become an never ending blur of battles interspersed with travel, planning sessions and occasionally, long periods of physical healing. Recently he'd grown tired of it; very tired... and depressed, was that what they called intense melancholia?

His master would not be pleased with him when next he returned, but somehow he couldn't find it in him to care much about it.

Recently it had occurred to him that everything he was doing was for nothing. Over the thousand years of his existence, he'd fought hard, yet gained little actual ground. For each area he claimed, another would be reclaimed by the forces of good. For each enemy he vanquished another would spring up to take their place.

The Realm was, for all intents and purposes, in a state of balance regardless of anything he did. He'd suffered and sacrificed greatly and all for nothing...

It would take something huge to create a shift n the balance, but what? The answer always seemed to elude him.

Just then his sharp eyes picked up motion in the darkness of an entranceway below and within seconds the earth woman emerged and to his surprise crossed the courtyard headed directly for the entrance to the very tower he stood atop.

Sheila.

He rubbed his chin. Having her here was proving diverting to say the least. His dinner should be quite entertaining, but in the meantime...

With a mischievous grin, he turned and began quickly, yet silently taking the tower steps downward. It wasn't long before the woman rounded the stairs into sight, moving quickly herself, her eyes trained on the steps immediately before her as she huffed and puffed her way upwards.

He never slowed his own pace and as he'd hoped, she ran right into him.

"Oof!" The breath knocked out of her, she bounced backwards and would have tumbled down the stairs to her death had he not reached out and snagged her arm.

"Careful little thief," he said with a sly smile, as he pulled her towards him. "This is hardly the way to go about breaking our dinner date!"

As he steadied her with both his hands, he noted that she blushed furiously, then quickly let go of his arms where she had gripped him in terror seconds prior.

"Uh... sorry..." she said sheepishly, looking down at her feet. "I guess I wasn't looking where I was going. I didn't expect someone else to be on the stairs. Thanks for the save."

He used a finger to raise her chin so that she would meet his gaze. "You are welcome; only be more careful. It would prove most embarrassing to have you die in a fall while under my protection!"

She actually laughed at that, although her blush intensified. "I will."

Venger dropped his hand. "Excellent. Now if you will excuse me, I shall see you at dinner." With a slight bow, he continued along his way, very pleased with himself.

He'd found her blush and her embarrassment very amusing, although he was quite certain that she blushed from disgust at his touch rather than from any attraction.

* * *

Her heart thumping wildly in her chest, Sheila took a few deep breaths and then continued her climb to the top of the tower. She arrived out of breath and still shaking from reaction in time to see Venger pause in the courtyard below and look up at her.

Then, flipping a wing as though rearranging a cape, he turned and stalked away.

She sighed and blushed as she remembered the feel of those large hands on her arms. But it hadn't been either that or the terror of falling that had truly disconcerted her; it was the Ring of the Heart, which had pulsed even more strongly than it had when she and Nate had touched. It had done so again, even more strongly when he'd lifted her chin.

"No! It's not possible," she convinced herself. After all, Venger wasn't a prisoner in his own castle. Besides, the ring had reacted for Nate as well...

**Next time: Of Man and Fiend**


	4. Of Man and Fiend

**Episode 3: Of Man and Fiend**

**This Chaper is Rated PG**

**Authors note**: Criticism and advice are always appreciated!

* * *

**Of Man and Fiend**

Sheila stood atop the tower for some time, watching the suns set as she tried to make sense of what was happening to her life.

Only days ago she'd been working as a cook and making barely enough to eat on while sleeping in a flophouse. Yet, here she was being treated like the lady of this castle by its servants and having dinner with Venger of all people!

He'd just saved her life on the stairs.

And the infernal ring was trying to tell her something.

"Kareena," she hissed softly. "You better not have been trying to set me up with your brother!" Then she laughed at the sheer ridiculousness of the thought. As if she could ever find a fiend like him attractive...

...Yet, he had looked pretty good on the balcony earlier, a mutinous part of her mind chimed in.

"Oh shut up!" she growled to herself and turned to leave the tower.

It was fast approaching dinnertime and she still needed to freshen up and change.

Before heading back to her room, she stopped off to see the head housekeeper but was disappointed to discover that she was attending to business somewhere else in the castle.

"Perhaps I can help you, Missus?" another housekeeper asked.

"I am to have dinner with the master," she replied hesitantly. "But due to the suddenness with which I packed, I find that I haven't a gown fine enough for the occasion. I was wondering if perhaps there might be something I could borrow?"

"Oh miss!" the woman laughed. "There are gowns enough for a queen in the armoire of your room! They've been there for as long as I've been here, so have no fear that their owner would mind!"

"Are you certain?" she asked, surprised by the turn of good luck.

"Aye, and it'll be nice to see 'em not go to waste," the woman replied.

With a smile of anticipation, Sheila turned and headed for her room.

* * *

An hour later, washed and primped, she looked herself over in the large, ornate floor length mirror that sat in the corner of the room and smiled. She looked like some sort of princess! 

Her old, shabby usual clothing had been replaced with a gown of black satin covered in a delicate, shamelessly expensive delicate silver lace. A large silver sash encircled her torso just below her bust line and formed a large bow with trailing ends in the back. The skirt was full and gathered into many pleats in center of the back where the bow sat. It trailed two feet behind her as she walked.

In a trunk within the armoire, she'd found delicate silver shoes to match the dress. As the final touch, she'd put her hair up with several silver hairpins and a dainty silver comb procured from the dresser.

"Wow…." She breathed, knowing that she had never looked this good before in all her life. With a sigh she smoothed down her dress. Perhaps she'd get a reaction out of Mr. Older-than-dirt when he saw her. Now wouldn't that be amusing?

At that moment a voice called to her from outside her door. "May I enter?"

"Come in," she replied, then jumped as Venger's Shadow Demon flew straight through the wood.

"I've been sent to escort you," he said, in his sibilant voice then looked her up and down. "My that is a lovely gown," he said in a strange tone.

"Thank-you," she replied. "You don't think it is too much, do you? All the others were even finer."

"The others?" The demon's eyes narrowed. "May I ask from whence you obtained it?"

"The armoire," she answered, pointing. "The housekeeper said I might make use of them."

The demon nodded. "I see no harm in it. And I believe that you are dressed in a most appropriate manner. If you'll follow me, we should go; it is unwise to keep the master waiting!"

Taking a deep breath to steady her sudden nerves, she opened the door and followed him into the corridor. To her consternation, he led her to the left and eventually stopped at the next doorway on the same side of the corridor. The doorway before them was a large and framed two ornate metal doors with carved dragon handles.

"I'm afraid that you will have to let yourself in," the shadow demon said, laughing at her consternation.

"Shouldn't I knock first?" she asked.

"There is no need: he awaits you on the balcony overlooking the garden."

Swallowing hard, she somehow managed to take hold of a huge handle and push the heavy door open enough to enter. Shadow Demon moved ahead of her, "This way," it said, moving forward into the chamber.

She followed, trying hard not to be caught staring, but she had a hard time not gawking.

Venger's chambers were in fact a suite of rooms that had to run nearly the length of one entire side of the Castle garden. Her own chamber was dwarfed by his. The room she'd entered appeared to be a sitting room, for it was filled with expensive carpets and sitting furniture. A huge fireplace was situated against the wall directly opposite the doorway and framed by two floor to ceiling windows, each actually framed with glass. There were two doorways opening onto the room, one on the right and one on the left. Shadow Demon led her towards the one on the left.

As she entered through the large archway, she realized that she was now in Venger's bedroom and began to blush furiously until she saw the large doors opening up onto the balcony that overlooked the garden. For a moment she had feared that everything was a ruse and that she was about to be turned into the night's entertainment…

She had little time to take in the furnishing in the room, but had the impression that his bed was huge. Carved from what appeared to be black marble, it had four large bedposts, the two on the headboard had ornate carved bronze rings decorating their tops. The room was lit by several wall sconces and there was a large floor to ceiling tapestry hung on one wall next to the bed.

Then she was stepping out onto the balcony behind the shadow demon and trying hard not to gasp aloud.

The balcony was large and lit with a myriad of torches and candles. At its center was a cozy table and two comfortable looking, over-sized chairs. Venger himself lounged in one, leaning back with his wings hanging over the chair back and his legs sprawled out haphazardly before him. Once again the skirt was gone, as was the helmet and she couldn't help but notice that his black clad legs were long, graceful and well sculpted.

There was something painfully attractive about him despite his warped features, she couldn't help but admit to herself a second time that very day.

In his hand he held a large goblet of wine and he gave off the impression that he was quite relaxed.

"Master, I bring the thief," announced Shadow Demon.

Venger turned his head to take her in, gaped in surprise, then bobbled and nearly dropped his wine glass as his wings flared out in his alarm.

She could swear that she'd heard her demon escort snicker.

In an instant Venger was on his feet and had recovered his poise. "Sheila…" He greeted her in his deep baritone. "You look... lovely." He'd actually managed to sound as though he spat out the last word.

Only then did she notice with a small start that he, too, was dressed in black and silver. Not only that, but the silver filigree of his tunic was in the same pattern as the silver lace of her dress. She also noted that his boots were also silver, embellishing the metal plate that protected them.

She shivered suddenly when she realized that he looked very much like a knight.

"How strange," she finally managed to say. "That we would turn out in matching clothes!"

"Yes, strange indeed," he replied, glaring at the shadow demon, who instantly dissipated. Then he pulled out the other chair and indicated it. "Please sit."

He sat when she did, not bothering to push her chair in for her. Then he lifted the wine carafe, filled her glass and handed it to her before topping off his own. Arranging his wings in a comfortable way, he again leaned far back in his seat and took a large gulp of his wine as he looked her over.

Sheila realized that his leg was uncomfortably close to her own and quickly sipped from her own glass as she shifted to the far side of her chair. She nearly groaned with embarrassment when she saw the small smirk that appeared on his face.

"The wine is from the southern vineyards of Marliwood," he said. "Please feel free to enjoy it; I'm not in the habit of molesting my tipsy dinner guests."

Her face flamed even hotter causing him to chuckle; a deep rumble coming from him. "Oh, my pretty little thief; how very entertaining you are!" he said, shifting in his seat and leaning towards her. "Come now; relax and enjoy the night. I chose this location for our meal because I so enjoy the garden. I am please to have discovered that you enjoy it as well."

She sniffed and took a gulp of wine. "Hard to believe that you'd enjoy anything other than destroying both people and places," she replied.

"My master expects results," he shrugged. "Would it surprise you to know that I was once as human as you; that my world was once dominated by the mindless pursuit of happiness and personal fulfillment?"

"Yeah? That must have been a very long time ago when you had a heart," she replied, becoming bolder as the alcohol kicked in.

His expression turned sour. "Heart? Yes I had one once; a useless thing in the end; too easily hurt, too easily destroyed." He finished off his glass and sat back in his chair, a sullen silence befalling him.

The silence lasted for a time, as they both stared out over the garden, which was lit with tike-like torches. Only when Sheila finished off her wine, did he lean forward and refill their glasses, then break the silence.

"I hope that you are hungry and not one of those females who merely nibbles at things. The cook has outdone herself tonight."

"I'm very hungry," she affirmed as a servant arrived and began uncovering the dishes that were set on a side table. She chose and was served a casserole that was along the lines of a potpie back on earth. This one was made with poultry and fresh vegetables and it was delicious! She also helped herself to some freshly baked bread with butter.

To her amazement Venger had a whole roasted game fowl with dressing and she was surprised at how neatly he ate with knife and fork. The wings and legs he lifted with his fingers and neatly and efficiently stripped the flesh off with his sharp teeth. Afterwards he wiped his mouth with his napkin and then placed it on his lap.

Sheila had the absurd thought that she could easily take him out to eat almost anywhere… except for who and what he was. She waiting until he was busy with the last wing and lifted the wine carafe, refilling his glass for him before pouring the last of the wine into her own.

Polishing off her half filled glass and feeling full, relaxed and a bit giddy, she then had the courage to speak up. "May I ask you something?"

He nodded and took a gulp of his wine.

"Why did you take me in; really?"

He put down his glass and actually gave her what seemed to be a toothy, but genuine smile. "I am not entirely certain," he replied.

"How can you, of all people, not be certain?" she teased. "You must have your reasons."

"I did it to honor my sister," he replied. "But I also did it because I felt that your presence here would be... amusing. But I also agreed to this arrangement for reasons I'm not entirely sure of. When you looked me in the eye the day we met on the stairs there was something about you that seemed so familiar to me. It's as though I can almost remember…"

He suddenly stopped speaking as though he'd said too much. Leaning towards her, he took her chin in his fingers, turning her face more to the light so he could look her over. "Perhaps you are really here because I wish to discover what it is about you that draws me," he breathed, his voice rumbling softly. "Or perhaps I ultimately brought you here because I was bored and thought you might prove to be worthwhile company for a time. "

With a sigh he released her and flopped back into his chair, then picked up his goblet once more.

Sheila actually found that she'd been holding her breath and now she released it in a shuddering sigh. The wine had left her relaxed, but his touch had suddenly made her want more. In addition, during their contact, the ring on her finger had pulsed as though alive and she could still feel that it was unnaturally warm.

It was the first time she could ever recall Venger giving what seemed to be an honest and direct answer to a question. Here, with the cool evening breeze and the scent of the candles mixed with those of blooming flowers; with good food, too much wine and him exuding a seductive and dangerous masculinity...

She had to be out of her mind! It had to be the wine! She couldn't possibly suddenly be this attracted to this... creature! He was evil, wasn't he?

Of course he was, she assured herself; he'd killed thousands of good people over the course of centuries. She had to remember that!

A spell; this had to be the result of one, she thought. But why then does your ring command your attention, she wondered.

Just then Venger spoke, making her start in a guilty fashion over her own musings.

"So then, I believe it is my turn to ask a question."

She nodded her agreement.

"My sister told me that after you parted ways with the old man, you fell on very hard times. Tell me something of how you've lived since I last saw you."

"We, I and my companions that is, eventually grew tired of having a carrot continuously dangled in front of us," she said as she remembered what, in retrospect, seemed to have been happier times. "Children or not, we soon realized that we were being used and knowing that those Dungeon Master had impressed into service before us had died doing exactly what we were doing decided our course of action."

Venger snorted. "That one presents himself as the ultimate force for good in the Realm, but his manipulations prove him to be far from the benign benefactor most believe him to be.

She nodded. "Yes. After Presto lost his leg in the last ill-advised mission we were sent on and very nearly his life as well, we'd had enough. Of course, when we told him we were through, Dungeon Master took all our weapons and promised us that we would never again see our homes until we relented."

"And the one known as Presto; was he the magician?"

She nodded, but was astonished by Venger's reaction; he laughed!

"There is real magic in that one while he resides here in the Realm," he said. Taking away his hat would merely slow his development, but given time, if he studied, then he will have become a true magician... or even a eventually a wizard. Then again, you know this already if your group remained together for a time," he added.

"Really?" she asked in amazement.

"So then; you did not continue to travel as a group," he observed, then added, "Yes; really."

She looked into her empty wine glass and he picked up on the hint, speaking a word of power. A fresh carafe appeared in his hand and he refilled their glasses.

Only after sipping hers did Sheila continue her tale, "We traveled together for a few weeks, but then, tired, destitute and hungry, our tempers got the best of us and we split up. Presto went off with Eric and Diana, while Hank traveled with me, my brother Bobby and the unicorn, Uni."

"In time we settled into a town in the west, where Bobby did menial chores wherever he could, Hank took up hunting and I cleaned and cooked as a servant in a large, wealthy household. Somehow we only just managed to scrape together enough money to eat and keep a roof over us."

Venger frowned. "That would be the old man's doing; a spell that accomplishes the reverse of prosperity. When you make some extra money an unexpected expense or hardship will always arise to use it up."

"Well a big hardship really did eventually arise,"she said, then blushed furiously as she realized she'd made a double entendre.

"And what was that?" he prompted, appearing to take great delight in her embarrassment.

"Hank and I... we eventually, uh... hooked up," she mumbled.

"Hooked up?" He appeared puzzled.

"We um... eventually became lovers," she clarified.

He stared at her and his expression changed, though she couldn't quite read it. His eyes glinted dangerously, as they narrowed and his mouth formed a thin line. "Was the big hardship you speak of a child?" he finally asked.

"There was a pregnancy, but there was no child in the end," she managed to whisper.

His expression changed. "A miscarriage?"

"No. She died only moments before she was born." Her voice broke and she could not go on, but looked down at her knees as tears fell on her gown. After a moment she was startled by a warm hand on her shoulder and turned to find that it was actually Venger's wing, which he had extended behind her. Looking at it she could see that the wicked looking hook at the crook of his wing was actually a very normal looking thumb, but with a long, talon-like claw rather than a nail.

She looked at him and saw that his expression had softened somewhat. He offered no condolence, no words of encouragement, but rather, simply waited her out.

Letting out a long, shuddering breath, she continued, "I was sixteen years old, the baby was late and inverted. Her head could not pass through my pelvis and after almost two days of labor I was close to dying. Hank managed to fetch a healer in time, paying him every last bit of our money, but by the time he managed to dislodge her she'd died."

"Continue," Venger encouraged when she fell silent.

"I actually passed out from loss of blood soon after." Sheila started to shake with emotion. "I thought I was dying; I prayed for it... but I did eventually awaken, confused and extremely depressed, to find that I'd lost several days. To my regret the healer had pulled me through and also repaired the damage that had been done."

"To make matters worse, Hank started acting strangely. He was as devastated as I, of course, but something was dreadfully wrong and I only discovered its cause many weeks later."

She stopped and as she sipped more wine and noticed that Venger was frowning. "What is it?" she asked.

"What was the name of this healer?"

"I don't remember. It was something along the lines of Fartook or Farook..."

Venger withdrew his wing and came to his feet so suddenly that she jumped. To her surprise he strode to the balcony railing and leaned on it with his back to her as he asked, "Did he tell the gullible Ranger that if you had any further children that you would die?"

She blinked in shock and found herself suddenly mute.

He turned to look at her then. "I see that he did! And your foolish, noble lover did the proper thing and left you rather than risk the consequences of touching you again."

"How could you know this?" she asked. "How?!"

He returned to the table and sighed as he looked down at her. "This healer you speak of has done this before, with one who crossed him and whom he wished to provoke into returning to him." He took his seat, finished his glass of wine and turned to face her directly. "That victim was my sister. Kareena's husband left her as well and died not long after. She never loved again, but instead took up pestering me."

"My God..." Sheila felt the blood draining from her face as the full implication sank in and she felt a wild and dangerous emotion rising up within her.

"Yes, Sheila; the healer was Dungeon Master and although I've no doubt that he saved your life at the cost of your child's, what he told the Ranger was not the entire truth, but merely designed to separate you."

"No! No!" She was on her feet, but lightening quick, he snagged her arm, preventing her from running. "Let me go!" She sobbed, struggling to free herself.

"Sit down!" he thundered.

In a panic, drunk and devastated a second time by this tragedy in her life, she fought even harder against him. Dimly, she was aware of him coming to his feet, wrapping her own arms about her and pulling her backwards up against him. Tangled in her own limbs, she could barely struggle and quickly running out of energy, she eventually slumped and began crying loudly.

Venger supported her weight, then released her arms, turned her to face him and wrapped his wings about her, preventing her from escaping, even if she thought to try.

She automatically wrapped her arms about him and sobbed into his tunic as he placed his hands on her shoulders and waited.

When her sobbing had abated somewhat, he spoke, "You cannot undo the damage that was done that day. What would you do; track down the Ranger? To what purpose? He has moved on with his life and may already be bound to another! Take heart in the fact that you are free to love, that you will not die in childbirth; the chances of a second child being both overdue and face up are very small. Even then, any true mage could save you."

"How could Dungeon Master do that to me?" she cried. "How could he?"

He remained silent and still until she'd cried herself out, then he withdrew his wings and held her away from him. "We've had too much to drink. It would be best that we bid each other good night."

"I'm sorry that I ruined the evening," she said in a small voice.

"You did nothing of the sort and I look forward to hearing the rest of your tale when next we dine together," he replied. "I'll have you escorted back to your room."

"No thank-you," she said quickly. "I can see myself out."

He frowned slightly. "Then will you allow me to escort you? I do not wish to risk having you running into any of the orc guards in your present... condition."

"Oh; do I need to fear them while I am a guest here?"

He snorted. "Not usually, however they are quick to take advantage if... circumstances are in their favor. Come along, I will at least watch you from the corridor outside my door as you let yourself into your chamber."

Moments later she was entering her room under his watchful gaze.

Somehow she managed to get the gown off without damaging it as she wearily reviewed the evening's events in her head.

She'd drunk too much and made a fool of herself, not to mention how much she'd told him about her personal issues. The strange thing was that he'd seemed angry about the way she'd been treated; she wouldn't have thought that he, of all people, would care. And he'd comforted her. How was it that Venger could be capable of such a thing, much less wish to do so?

Confused and more than a little ill, she made a trip to the toilet and then finally crawled into bed. Further thought on the evening would have to wait until tomorrow.

She slept fitfully, her dreams disturbed by nightmares of betrayal, but sometime just before dawn she dreamed of warm wings and a voice hushing her and entreating her to sleep, which she did immediately and very well thereafter.

* * *

From the adjourning door hidden beneath tapestries in their connected bedrooms, Venger had heard her moaning and crying out in her sleep. He had the power, through his Nightmare to destroy people through their dreams, but this time he did the unthinkable and channeled the demon horse's abilities towards soothing a troubled sleeper. 

The effort cost him much, as did any magical act on his part that did not work directly towards his master's purpose.

Yet, only when he heard her sigh and felt her return to a restful slumber, did he break contact with the Nightmare and stumble to his own bed. Normally he would not have slept that night, but too much wine and the drain of this last kindness on his part conspired against him.

The last thing he thought of before sleeping were tearful, pale blue eyes. That was when he realized that he was very much in danger.

**Next time: Natharious**


	5. Natharius

**Twist of Fate**  
A Dungeons & Dragons story by Tina Price. Eleven years have passed and things have not fared well in the Realm. The Children have long since disbanded, after having abandoned Dungeon Master and his manipulations. During the years that followed, good has slowly been consumed by evil...

**Disclaimer: ** Venger, Sheila and all characters therein are the property of the Walt Disney Company.

* * *

**Natharious**

Dawn found the Lord of the Realm dressed in his usual attire and seated in a chair on his balcony before the now-cleared table. He'd been in his current position for close to an hour, leaning back dangerously in his seat with both legs crossed at the ankle and resting upon the table, while his arms were crossed upon his chest. He frowned most impressively, several snaggled teeth protruding from the thin line of his mouth.

He'd found himself beset by an inner turmoil since arising, yet for the life of him he could not seem to find either a reason or a cure for his malady; namely a sudden strong attachment to the lady thief. Worse yet; he actually found himself caring about what had befallen her!

He could still remember the feel of her clinging to him; how good it had been to hold her... Even now, he felt a sickening need to see her, and had already squashed several stray thoughts about inviting her to breakfast.

His frustration over his sudden development of tender feelings gave way to anger.

"Curse the wine!" he growled. "And curse her for having worn that dress! How could I have forgotten that HER things were still in that room? And curse my servants for having left them there and having preserved them as I commanded them to!" Then he stood and nearly bellowed, "And for that matter; since when do they still follow directions given centuries ago?!"

Shadow Demon appeared in front of him and nervously bowed. "Master, is there anything I might do to ease your troubles?" he asked. "Shall I have HER things removed while the thief is out?"

Venger fairly glared at him. "No. We might as well let her have some use of them. Instruct the staff. Now, have my steed saddled up. I've things to attend to in the northern mountains and I daresay that I've tarried too long as it is."

"Yes Master," the demon bobbed and added with glee, "And what shall I tell the lady when she asks after you?"

Venger was startled by the very thought that she should even do such a thing. "Tell her that I am away, dolt!" he shouted, "Now get thee from my sight!"

The shadow demon vaporized on the spot.

* * *

In the town of Tyborr, in the west, there lived few experts or specialists. It was a poor town many miles away from the nearest established settlement that could even be called a city. The town had one blacksmith and a population of just twenty-five sentient creatures. But what set the town apart from all the rest was it's transient population; numbering on average fifty people. They came from all over the area and were put up by the locals for small fees or exchange of goods.

As a result of this continuous parade of visitors and the money they paid the locals, Tyborr was no longer nearly as poor as it had been only a year previously. That was when the man all those folk came to see had settled there. A specialist he was, and a good one at that; a rarity in backwoods places like these!

Tall, he was and young, with light brown hair and a neatly trimmed goatee. Gentle and soft-spoken, he had a quiet authority about him that made people want to follow him. His name was Preston, but he preferred to go by his magician's name, Presto. He was skilled at healing, at herbal lore and potions, although the townspeople were quick to note that not even his abilities seemed to have been enough to cure him of his limp. Why he'd settled there, he wouldn't say, but he'd saved so many people that his reputation had quickly grown, as had the number of people lining up to see him daily.

He'd taken on two pupils as well and although they could not perform healing spells as he could, he'd said that teaching them how to diagnose and treat illness would do a world of good in the area once he'd moved on.

Because of this the townspeople understood that he would not be staying, but they still tried their best to sway his mindset. Thus far each attempt by them had been met with a shy smile and a polite shake of the head.

"I've other places to visit," he'd always reply, "But take heart knowing that I will leave you with two skilled healers when I've moved on."

The young magician was well liked not only by the townspeople, but by their daughters as well and more than a few of those young ladies had tried to catch his eye during the last year. Unfortunately for them, aside from giving them an appreciative look or two, Presto had politely explained that he was too busy with his studies to make a good beau at this moment in his life...

And that had earned him their fathers' respect.

* * *

It may have been the soft jingle of the wind chimes outside the door that first woke him, but Presto immediately knew that something in his little cabin wasn't right.

Slowly reaching out, he grasped the staff that he kept beside his bedroll and rolled suddenly, coming to his knees even as he pointed it and yelled a word of power.

At the instant he conjured the spell a second voice rang out, countering it while lighting all the candles in the room.

Presto stared at his visitor in shock and then lowered his staff. "Dungeon Master?" he asked in disbelief. "What are you doing here?"

"It has been a long time, magician. I am pleased to see how well you have done on your own." He walked closer and looked Presto over. "Your abilities are impressive; more so that you were not born of this world."

"Why don't you just cut to the chase and tell me what brings you here," Presto replied tersely, dropping his staff and sitting to pull on his artificial leg.

Dungeon Master nodded. "I am here on behalf of one you once cared for; the thief you once traveled with."

"Sheila?" Presto's expression lightened. "I'm glad to hear that she's alive. She hasn't fallen ill, has she?"

"No, young magician, but a life does hang in the balance and you are the only one near enough to save them." Before Presto could question him, he continued, "In the castle of Venger, to the north is where you must be. And this person must be saved or the entire Realm is lost. I would not be entreating you to go if the situation was not dire, but if you succeed in your mission, you will be amply rewarded with something you seek."

"Something I seek?" he repeated. "Can we for once dispense with the riddles?"

The little man sighed. "The one you save will be the master you seek in your search for knowledge. Time grows short while we talk; you must leave now or you will not arrive in time!"

Presto blinked as he tried to decide his course of action; everything in him told him to mistrust this little gnome who had cost him so much. Still, he had long hoped to find a powerful mage willing to take him on as his apprentice and he was being pointed right at one. Besides, if Sheila was involved, then could he really afford not to take the high road on this one?

Still, the Dungeon Master was known by him to be manipulative. He had no way of knowing if this was yet another carrot being dangled before him.

Climbing to his feet, he was about to ask a few questions of his shifty little visitor, but found when he looked down that the fellow had vanished.

"Figures!" He said, then dressed and went in search of his students. It was time to let them know that he was leaving.

* * *

Sheila awoke late in the morning, feeling well rested but nervous. She distinctly remembered dreaming that Venger had held her in his arms and stroked her hair while she relaxed and drifted off to sleep.

Why would she dream such a thing?

Adding to her discomfort were memories of the evening before and worse yet; an eagerness to see him again.

He had spoken of being drawn to her and she could definitely sympathize, for she likewise felt herself being drawn to him. Why? Was it the lure of a powerful male? Was it his intelligence? Was it the fact that he had lived for so very long a time that it was awe-inspiring when she thought of it? Was it his uniqueness?

She sighed. It seemed that all those might be factors. Still, she felt something more, something that had everything to do with the personality buried in that winged form and hidden deeply away from the world. Yet, she had seen that hidden person just last night and she wondered why it was that he'd let his guard down around her.

Well, duh, she thought; it's because he sees something in you as well!

After a light, but wonderful brunch, she took time to enjoy a bath in the huge sunken tiled pool in her room and then dressed in one of her own simple gowns. Then, brushing out her hair, she left her room, determined not to seek out the castle's master.

* * *

Venger had joined his troops in the north, at the Crystal Mountains well before noon, courtesy of his demon steed's traveling abilities and had thereafter become embroiled in one of the bloodiest battles of his long life.

The Crystal Mountains were, for the most part, uninhabitable. The soil was barren and difficult to work with. Only the most skilled farmers could coax crops to grow in it, and then only with the aid of massive supplements.

The mountains were steep and difficult to build upon, making settlements rare and very far between. No mages lived here, for the Crystal Mountains had another property; the massive crystals that grew, razor-sharp from the ground were anathema to magic. They dampened it, absorbing it from the very air itself and turning the area into a huge dead zone for magic users like Venger.

Still, that traitor, Darius, had fled here years ago after a major attempt upon his life and it was only recently that he had been confirmed to be living in these mountains and in charge of this stronghold. Venger had suspected as much; there were few places in the Realm where anyone could escape his notice if he sought them and these mountains were the best of the lot.

The lizard knight could not be suffered to live after his betrayal. Adding insult to injury had been his discovery that the creature had apparently been working for his enemies all along. A spy in the camp of Venger could not be tolerated and thus an example would be made of him, no matter how many years had passed.

Unfortunately, because of the nature of this place, a conventional fight was called for; Venger's magic only strong enough to enable him to shield himself. Yet, despite the fact that his magic was all but useless here, he'd learned a thing or two from other non-magical worlds...

It hadn't taken long to organize his army. Under the derisive cries of those inside the fortress city, he'd had multiple cannons, imported across the interdimensional void at much personal cost on his part, positioned around his enemy.

Once he'd had the weapons placed, he'd waited, allowing his enemies' fear to grow as the anticipation became unbearable. Then, after nightfall, he'd flown off on his Nightmare beyond the dampening influence of the mountains and summoned a storm, one that would reach peak intensity as it barreled right over the stronghold.

In the black of night, with their torches quenched by wind and rain, the fortress' archers could do little damage. Not so his cannons; the first volley obliterated the fortress gates and several turrets, while the second blasted another entrance in the side of the outer wall.

His orc soldiers swarmed into the fortified city while he rode in near the rear of the first brigade. Mounted upon his Nightmare, he wore his armor of old and carried his sword, Dybbuk, for he'd once been the greatest knight in the Realm, though his history had long since faded from mortal memory.

Venger's goals in risking an early charge into the mealy was two fold; he dare not fly in directly, for an arrow could easily breach his magical defenses and armor in this place. Secondly, he knew that the sight of him close up and mounted on his Nightmare would unnerve the enemy and put many to route. In addition to his unique size and appearance, his armor and sword, which had both once been silver, were now an eerie black, shimmering like smoke with the power of the spells they held; spells which even the crystals of this place could not easily drain.

It turned out that his intention to spook the enemy worked well, for as rode out into their masses, killing efficiently, brutally and swiftly, the enemy panicked and began to withdraw, running scared before him and the Orcs.

Instructing his troops to continue the fight and take no soldier prisoner, he rode off in search of his prey, bellowing Darius' name loudly enough that his voice reverberated off the city walls.

* * *

By nightfall, Sheila was feeling somewhat restless. She'd neither seen the castle's master nor received any invitation from him to share a meal. It was late indeed when she actually got up the nerve to ask a chambermaid if she'd seen him.

"No, Miss," the woman replied. "I believe he set out at dawn to see to some pressing business in the north, or so I've heard."

"Thanks," she'd replied, trying to cover her disappointment.

After dinner, which was served up in her room, she spent the remainder of the evening in the garden. She began with a leisurely walk through it in which she again admired the plants and trees. Much later she ended up sitting on a small wall that surrounded a raised bed.

She could see Venger's balcony from her position and watched it and his windows for any sign of his return even as she tried to make sense of her feelings from the night before.

A strange anxiety was slowly building in her; almost a sense of deja-vu. Somehow she felt she'd been down this road before...

* * *

Venger, atop his Nightmare, had traveled far enough into the mountain fortress' city that the sounds and sights of battle were left behind. He followed his instincts; a strange sort of sixth sense that usually allowed him to find those he sought, even without the use of magic.

Several further twists and turns down the narrow city streets brought him to a dead end and the base of one of the tallest buildings. His steed snorted nervously as he frowned, realizing that he should have seen some evidence of the townspeople, even if only to see them ducking out of sight at their windows as he passed.

He glanced up at the building before him; his instincts telling him that this was where his prey hid. Unfortunately both his intellect and instincts were also telling him that he'd walked into a trap.

He quickly weighed his options. The windows were too high for him to fly to while dressed in battle armor and he somehow knew that something lay in wait right around the corner should he try to leave the alley.

There were however, three doors in front of him; one into the building he was drawn to, the other two into the buildings on either side of him. He needed his spy to tell him which would prove the most worthwhile entrance.

"Shadow Demon!" he bellowed.

His servant appeared before him, bowing. "Yes, Master?"

"How goes the battle?"

"The Orcs are winning and have nearly overrun the enemy," he reported. "However, something strange is occurring atop the turrets..."

"That's not the only place!" came a hissing voice from above."

Venger looked up just in time to see several large bundles falling from the rooftops around him, thrown down by his enemy and his followers.

Turning the Nightmare around, he galloped away, a sudden sickening notion of what was about to befall him overriding his concerns about the ambush that lay waiting ahead of him at the alley entrance.

Somehow he knew he wouldn't make it that far and he boomed a word of power, drawing on all his magical reserves, those of his armor and his steed as well. The spell activated at the same time that the bundles hit the ground behind him.

He never even heard the explosion that reduced the alleyway to rubble and engulfed him.

* * *

When he regained consciousness, the first thing he smelled was gunpowder and charred flesh. Dimly, beneath the loud ringing in his ears, he could make out the sound of lizardmen hissing and cursing in pain. It was only then that he realized he was being dragged bodily out of the rubble that now was the remains of the alley.

His chest hurt, his broken ribs protesting every breath he took and he was fairly certain that an arm and wing had likewise suffered breaks. He knew he'd been burnt badly as well; his wings had become nothing more than two tattered curtains of agony.

Still, being well acquainted with agony, he conquered his pain enough to remain silent and kept his eyes closed so that his adversaries wouldn't realize he was awake. Yet, every drag of his burned extremities over rough debris was pushing him closer to his limits.

What exactly had happened? Gunpowder; somehow his enemies had discovered the formula and made their own supply! No doubt, the work of spies or disloyal troops willing to sell his secrets to the highest bidder, he thought. Well, he would take care of that soon enough, but first… he had to get out of this dangerous predicament. In this place his Master's power was not available for his use and he was as mortal as those he fought.

"I think hisss dead," came the sibilant voice of one of his captors.

"He better not be or the massssster will have our ssskinsss," replied another.

Obviously, he was being dragged by lizardmen and from what he could tell, there were at most, three of them. He could hear the rest of their squad moaning and groaning somewhere behind him; no doubt hurt by the explosion or flying debris. That meant that he had awakened before they'd had a chance to drag him very far or before they could meet up with more of their kind.

His sword; did he still have it on him?

There was a chance that his captors might not have noticed it beneath his wings, for he'd had it sheathed at the time of the explosion.

Fortunately, he soon got his answer. A clang from his left, that sounded like metal on stone and another lizardman spoke, "His sssword is ssstrange; it burns to the touch!"

"Then sssheath it, you fool!" snapped the one holding his left arm. He promptly let go of his prisoner to go help his comrade. Now Venger found himself held by only his right upper arm and he was no longer being dragged forward.

Fast as lightening, he opened his eyes, lunged and made a left-handed grab for his sword, his remaining captor too stunned to restrain his sudden movement.

"Look out!" Yelled the lizardman as he torqued Venger's broken arm.

Too late.

The lizardman with his sword had been in the act of re-sheathing tit, which put the handle in a perfect position for Venger to grasp. With a horrifying bellow of agony, he did so, yanking it free and then arched it forward as he came to his feet. Although he felt weak, the blow with momentum behind it was powerful enough to dispatch the lizardman who had just let go of his left arm. With a scream, the man died.

Bringing the pommel of the sword backwards, he struck it full force against the head of the man still torquing his broken arm. With a cry, he went down clutching his skull and Venger gutted him in retribution.

When he turned to confront the last lizardman, he saw that his remaining foe was running far ahead, up the street.

Just then Shadow Demon reappeared. "Master! I have summoned help; your Orcs are fighting through the last of our foes!"

"Where is my Nightmare?"

"Gone back to its dimension to lick its wounds, Master. It may not return for some time."

Leaning against a wall, Venger inspected his charred armor. The last spell he'd cast, drawing forth its power to summon a magic barrier had produced a spell only just strong enough to save his life. The drained armor had been left vulnerable to the explosion. Still, even twisted plate metal was better than none and he opted to leave it on rather than lighten his burden and discomfort.

"Locate Darius and the best path to him," he commanded.

"But Master, you are badly injured. You should heal yourself and then continue the battle," the demon protested.

"Do as I say or face the consequences!" Venger bellowed, causing his demon servant to immediately dissipate. The Shadow Demon's suggestion was the safest one, but he knew he was already running out of energy and blood. It would take him many days to heal and he could not risk his foe eluding him, especially when he had the secret to the Earth's gunpowder!

He would rather kill Darius now, even if he risked his own oblivion.

* * *

Moments later, as he hid in the shadows of an adjourning street, the shadow demon reappeared and pointed him towards a door several buildings down on his left. He didn't have to wonder if it was unlocked; the demon knew full well not to bother with the locked ones.

As he entered the building he found a staircase directly before him.

"Master, this will take you to the roof, which is a floor higher than the building your foe hides in," the demon explained. "If you are able, a jump of one story and over the eight foot gap between buildings will take you to him."

Venger thought it over for a moment, gingerly testing his wings. They wouldn't provide much wind resistance and it would hurt like hell, but if he could brace the broken one...

"I will get across," he growled, moving towards the stairs. "Check the area and tell me where my enemies lurk!"

After the demon disappeared, he wrapped his good arm around his ribs and began taking the steps two at a time. He was winded and in agony by the time he reached the top landing.

Cracking the door open, he looked out onto the roof. It seemed to be clear, but it would be best if he did what needed doing here, rather than in the open.

Sitting, he braced his burned back against the wall and began removing his armor. As much as he hated to do so, he now had no choice; in his condition he would never make the jump carrying the extra weight.

Once off, he removed several of the securing straps, then ripped off one of the long metal plates from the armor's belly. Placing it over his sword, which he lay edge up on the floor, he bent the plate lengthwise.

Then he gingerly extended his broken wing before him with the end touching the floor. The break was on his fore-digit, just past the wrist joint. He had to use the thumb of his other wing to help steady it so he could straighten it out. The pain was dizzying, but worse was yet to come.

Picking up his sword, he punched four holes through the wing membrane just the other side of the bone; two on each side of the break. Shaking and sweating, covered in his own blood, he then placed the bent metal plate over the break and bound it tightly in place by passing the four straps through the cuts and buckling them around the plate covered wing bone.

Then he tested it.

It hurt like hell, but the bone stayed straight enough. It would allow him to glide enough to assist his jump across the building roofs.

"Master," Shadow Demon addressed him after appearing from the surrounding darkness. "The lizardmen who sought you have been killed by your Orcs. I led them to our enemy!"

"And Darius?" he hissed.

"He is still in the upper room of the building I lead you to. He has five guards with him."

Venger smiled evilly. "Tell me; does he have any large sacks in that room?"

"He does, Master; many sacks!"

Venger's smile grew even larger.

* * *

Moments later, he was leaping from one roof top to the other and landing lightly enough not to alert his enemy, despite the pain in his all his broken bones, most especially his wing.

Then, gripping the roof edge, he flipped over, crashing feet first through the large window of the room below.

Darius came to his feet, genuinely shocked to see him alive, much less standing in the room and holding a lit torch. Immediately, comprehension of the situation could be seen crossing the Lizard General's face. "Guards; kill him!" he screamed.

With a loud laugh, Venger threw the torch directly at a sack across the room and flung himself from the window.

A stray arrow hit him on his way out, but he still managed to glide down to street level and around the corner, where he landed and ducked behind the rubble of his earlier misfortunes just as the building's upper level lit up.

The explosion was large enough to destroy the entire building, crumbling the lower half to rubble and shaking the city violently. Venger somehow regained his feet and laughed heartily at the fitting end his enemy had met... until something landed with a thud in the street beside him.

Surprised, his eyes not yet adapted to the dark after witnessing the brilliant fireball, he had to approach the object closely to make out what it was.

It was a woman, apparently blown out a window somewhere above and she was quite obviously dead from the fall. He wasn't certain why, but something made him turn her over and look at her face.

"No!!!" he screamed. Then his strength gave out and he knew no more.

* * *

"No!!!"

The scream came again from the back of the wagon.

"What wrong wit him?" asked an Orc, marching behind.

"Don't know," came another Orc's reply. "The shadow demon say he no know either!"

Shadow Demon himself heard them and glided into the wagon, where he hovered over his master, deeply concerned for his life. The army was making for the foothills, far enough away that the crystals in these mountains could no longer prevent him from healing himself.

The question was; would they be in time?

As he watched, his master writhed on the hay bedding of the wagon and cried out again. He'd lost much blood and suffered many injuries, including an arrow to the leg, but nothing could explain the ghastly nightmare he seemed to be having.

"Hold on Master," he said aloud. "We will be out of the mountains by nightfall."

* * *

Three nights later, Venger stood brokenly atop a nearby peak, having borrowed a mundane horse to make the trek. He still felt poorly; his wing and arm still in slings and his ribs still tightly bound, but he was making progress. In a few more days he should be strong enough to use the spells he had in mind.

Then he could leave this place far behind.

Yet, he could never leave behind the horror he'd seen in the city, for when he'd turned the dead woman over and seen her face, he'd seen that she was the spitting image of his long lost love.

Who was she? Why was this affecting him so?

"To think that she died in such a way..." he breathed, heartbroken after three long days and nights of dreams in which he had relived the greatest tragedy of his life. He was haunted by her face and saw her dead, bleeding body everywhere he turned.

And he was exhausted; tired in body, mind... and yes, soul.

"Why? Why now?" he mused aloud. In truth he suspected that being cut off from his master in those mountains had reawakened a part of him long dormant and left him vulnerable to so human a trait as sorrow.

The only thing that had kept him sane through his nightmares were thoughts of the little thief who awaited his return to his castle. Only her living face could counter the dead one he now saw everywhere and the memories he did not want.

* * *

Five days after Venger had departed, Sheila found herself running out of places to explore. She'd already learned almost every nook and cranny of her new home by heart and was now rapidly becoming overwhelmed with boredom.

To her great humiliation, she'd taken to climbing the tower stairs each night so that she could stand at the castle's highest point each evening and search the skies for signs of Venger's return.

What was he up to? What occupied so much of his time?

On the sixth night, as she leaned on the tower wall and scanned the nights, she heard a slight scuff behind her and turned to find none other than Nate standing behind her and trying to catch his breath from the climb up.

"Oh," he panted. "I didn't realize this tower was taken."

The humorous tone he took made her laugh immediately and move to greet him.

"Nate! I'm so glad to see you," she said, taking the hand he offered her. "When did you arrive?"

"Only moments ago," he replied smiling warmly at her. "I love the view from this tower and having nothing pressing to attend to, I thought I'd make it a visit."

She let go his hand. "That's pretty much why I'm here as well."

"Well, it's good that you're not pining and searching for the master," he said, obviously joking, but then added in a serious tome, "I've heard that he was nearly killed in the Crystal Mountains and may not return for quite some time."

Sheila was stunned. "Nearly killed? What was he doing?"

"A war, I believe, against an old foe," Nate replied, studying her carefully.

She managed to compose herself, covering up her concern with a question, "How do you know all this if he's so far away?"

He laughed. "His shadow demon is his courier, bearing news where he wishes. Of course, the Master does not wish word of his serious condition to reach many ears, but I was privileged with that bit of information."

"Why; and don't you think he'll be upset to hear that you're spreading the word around?" she asked.

"Not at all. He told me because he wished me to inform you."

It just didn't make sense to her and Sheila turned her back to him while she thought it over. Why would Venger go out of his way to tell her of his condition? Could it be because he would not be able to protect her until he returned? Was that why he'd told the man he'd warned her to stay clear of, and not her directly; because Nate was to protect her?"

She tuned to find the hunter's eyes wandering over her and he quickly straightened, pretending to be looking at the scenery. Hiding her amusement she asked the thousand dollar question, "Why did he send his demon to you with this news, rather than to me?"

Nate seemed both surprised and confused by her question. "I... I'm not certain and now that you mention it, that is odd."

"Odder than you might think when you consider that Venger warned me to stay away from you," she replied, squinting at him in the bright sunlight.

"Why would he warn you away from me?" The hunter asked, stretching an arm and groaning.

"Are you hurt?" she asked, but he quickly nodded that he wasn't and she continued. "He seemed to think that you and I were much too friendly."

At that he laughed. "Well now, very little is making sense to me after hearing that!"

"What else did he have the shadow demon tell you?" she asked.

"Just to bring the news to you and remain here until he returned."

She nodded to herself. It seemed likely that Nate was meant to protect her from the castle's Orcs and anyone else who might think about harming her. Just having the large hunter around would prove a deterrent. And of course, Venger wouldn't give away that he cared enough to do such a thing, so Nate was left in the dark about his real purpose in being here.

Well, if he wasn't questioning why he had to stay, then she wasn't about to bring it up.

"I'm glad to see you again, Nate," she said with a smile. "Perhaps, if you aren't too busy, we can get together now and then."

"I'd like that," he replied. "This place can be very boring at times. One quickly becomes tired of watching the Orcs beating each other."

She laughed. "Oh! I thought I was the only one amused by their antics!"

"No, but trust me, it won't remain amusing long." As she made to leave, he cleared his throat. "Sheila, I need to get some sleep; I've been traveling a long time, but perhaps tomorrow we might meet for lunch?"

She nodded. "I could really use the company."

"How about noon, in the great hall?"

She nodded. "OK. Pleasant dreams, Nate!"

Then she took the steps, but her elation over having company was far overshadowed by worry over Venger.

* * *

Lunch in the great hall with Nate was wonderful; she again had good company during an excellent meal and the man, though nearly as somber as Venger, proved to have a sharp sense of the absurd and a wicked wit.

After they'd eaten, he surprised her by pulling a chess set out of the box he'd brought with him.

"That is a earth game!" she exclaimed. "Where did you get it?"

He looked uncomfortable. Lord Venger brought it back on his last visit to your world, but he never learned how to play, so I was given it as a curiosity."

She had to force herself to close her mouth. "Venger takes trips to my world?"

"Yes," Nate answered. "But only on rare occasion and it isn't easy for him, either. Were I you, I would not risk his anger by asking him to send you back."

She sighed and sagged in her chair. "I haven't a life there anymore. Besides, too many unanswerable questions would be raised if I ever tried to contact my family again."

Watching her, Nate's expression softened. "I'm sorry; it never occurred to me that your family would be lost to you, regardless."

She sighed. "It's water under the bridge now. Besides, I'd never be able to face them after what happened to my little brother."

"What happened to him?"

She shook her head. "He died and it was my fault. That's all you need to know. Now then, you want to learn how to play?"

She could see him looking at her strangely, no doubt wondering how she could change the subject so abruptly, suggesting they play a game, no less.

"I'm always eager to learn new games," he replied with a touch of irony.

When she began setting up the board, he took her hand. "How do you do it?" he asked. "How do you face such adversity; your brother's death, poverty, abandonment and still have so kind a heart?"

"You mean you don't know?" she asked. At his shake of the head, she continued, "It's called faith."

Nate frowned. "Religion..."

She shook her head sadly. "Not just that kind of faith," she replied. "Faith in your fellow man, faith in yourself and faith in a better future if you live your life right and have the courage to follow your dreams."

"And what have you done in the way of following your dreams?" he asked. "When I first met up with you you'd still been recently working yourself near to death as a cook."

"Ah," she sighed. "I was only just getting up the courage to start doing that when Kareena summoned me."

Nate leaned forward eagerly, tightening his hold on her hand. "And what is your dream, Sheila?" he asked.

She shook her head sadly. "I think I'll keep that to myself for now. We were talking about faith, weren't we? Let me just add that without it, t'would be easy to rail against fate and become bitter, uncaring and self centered. Once that happens, all that follows is downhill!"

Nate helped her set up the board then, a pensive look upon his face.

* * *

They spent hours at chess and Nate turned out to be a very intelligent and quick learner. After a short time, their games took over an hour and he soon had his first win. She could never forget the proud look on his face when she'd tipped her king, sat back and told him he was amazing.

By then they'd been shocked to see it was dinnertime and the servants had bustled about serving them right there where their lunch had been taken.

Another three hours had been spent at the table, eating, drinking and talking. She'd quickly found a warm spot in her heart for the handsome hunter and was very glad to have such a friend to spend the long hours with.

She still wondered if he were meant to be more than a friend, though, for the Ring of the Heart still reacted to his touch as well as his presence. When he'd taken her hand, it had nearly burned her.

After finally quitting the table, he'd taken her for a walk around the outskirts of the castle, the moonlight providing them plenty of illumination. They'd talked quite a bit about their lives and gotten to know each other better; finding that they had quite a bit in common.

During that walk, she'd actually gotten up the courage to ask him something that had been bothering her ever since Venger had brought it up.

"Nate, I was told that you once had a wife. What happened to her?"

He'd stopped walking. "I made a mistake," he'd replied after what seemed to be a great struggle. "She didn't really like me much when we first met, but for me it was love at first sight. I became obsessed and spent as much time as any man could spend wooing her. In the end, I got my wish; she did fall in love with me." He'd looked at her in the eye then, his own haunted and sorrowful. "That was when I turned my attention and ambitions elsewhere; always off doing this or that, never at home with her. By the time I realized I truly needed her, she was not willing to sacrifice much for me." Then he'd faced away from her and she could see that he was shaking. "I'm sorry; I cannot say more. It is still too much for me. All you need know is that she died shortly thereafter."

Sheila had quickly moved to comfort him, but when she placed her hand on his shoulder, he'd flinched away violently with a gasp.

"I'm sorry," she'd whispered, not knowing what else to do, but then he'd turned to face her.

"It grows late. We should retire. I'm not angry with you for asking, Sheila. You should know more about me. Now let us head back to our warm beds."

He'd offered her his arm, then escorted her to her chamber door. With a kiss of her hand and a bow, he'd bid her goodnight and left.

And here she was, ready for bed and mulling over the events of the day.

"Lady! May I come in?"

She jumped, instantly recognizing the voice. "Yes," she called out.

Venger's shadow demon entered the room.

"The Master has sent me to tell you that he is returning and will see you on the morrow."

She nodded. "Is he well?"

"Yes." And on that note the demon dissipated.

With a sigh of anticipation, she went to bed, but once there she tossed and turned, far too excited to sleep.

An hour later, she gave up trying, got dressed and headed off to spend some time in the Garden.

As she entered it, she took a deep breath and sighed. It was a perfect night; only one moon, the largest one, shown in the sky at the moment and it was full, it's light only just enough to illuminate the garden when the tike torches were out, as they currently were. A light, fragrant cool breeze blew intermittently and she could hear the chirping of the insects that passed as crickets in this world.

The night was fresh, beautiful and invigorating, making her feel carefree for the first time in many long years. Oh, to have someone to share it with!

"Well now; to think I thought it couldn't be a more perfect night," came Nate's voice behind her. He'd apparently just entered the garden himself. "I'm glad to see I was wrong," he added.

She waiting for him near the fragrant dragonsheart bush and when he reached her, she held out a hand. "You flatter me too much and too often," she replied.

Nate took her hand and to her surprise pulled her close. "And you seem to have no idea of how deeply you affect me."

She looked up at him, searching his handsome face. "I don't know what it is about you," she breathed. "But I feel that I've known you a long time."

"Which is very odd, yet very encouraging, since I feel the same way about you," he replied. "Perhaps we've met in a different life?"

Sheila giggled. "I don't believe in that."

"Well, I do," he said. "It happens, though very rarely and I've seen it proven."

"Oh really; when?"

"It has been said that on several occasions over the course of his long life, that Lord Venger has encountered someone known to him in their previous life. It has also been said that although they were born to new forms, yet they were still tied to him by fate."

"I was present when he once met such a person..."

"What happened?" she asked, riveted by the tale.

"He performed some spell that scried their mind, allowing him to bring forth memories from their previous life. He proved them to be who he thought they once had been..."

"What happened to them then?" she asked.

"Well, since this particular person turned out to be an old enemy of his, who was again conspiring against him, it is said that he inviting the man to dinner and only afterwards killed him"

She stared at him in horror, more so since he'd worn a familiar looking smirk as he'd told her the tale's outcome. "Sometimes you remind me of him," she said quickly.

He looked stunned. "Who; Lord Venger?"

"Yes. I can't fully explain it, but without a doubt there are similarities; the way you talk, your expression sometimes and the fact that you've something of a cruel streak. Are you by chance related to him?"

He laughed at that. "Not a chance." Then he cupped her cheek with his palm, his expression growing serious. "So I remind you of the dark one, do I? How unflattering! I think that I shall have to firmly divide us in your mind..."

Before she could react, he'd bent down and claimed her lips as his other arm snaked around her pulling her close. The kiss started out lightly, his lips teasingly brushing her own and then it deepened.

Her eyes slid shut and her legs seemed to turn to jelly as her heart pounded and explosions of sensation went off in her head. She quickly found herself kissing him back and as the kiss deepened further, his tongue probed her mouth, stealing away her reason.

She'd never been kissed like this before; it was as though he knew exactly what to do to put her over the edge, but thoughts of Venger suddenly filled her head. Behind her eyelids, she saw his crimson eyes and remembered how he'd held her.

Knowing that she was a fool to pass up Nate for a fiend, she struggling suddenly, pushing him away. Only then did she become aware of the Ring of the Heart burning her finger.

She ignored it and shook her head, confused and upset by the turn her thoughts had taken. "I'm sorry, Nate... We shouldn't have done that."

When he spoke his voice was none to steady, "Why not, when we are so drawn to each other? I believe that you must indeed be someone I once knew; there was only one woman who ever..."

"Ever what?" she asked when she realized that he wasn't about to continue the sentence.

He shook his head. "It doesn't matter," he replied. "Now explain to me why it is that you feel we shouldn't have kissed; I know you felt it as strongly as I did!"

She felt painfully embarrassed, uncertain of how much she should tell him and found herself struggling to find words. "You're a good friend and..." She couldn't go on.

He lifted her chin. "Just tell me the truth," he whispered, sounding wary.

She sighed. "You'll hate me for this, but... when you kissed me, all I could think of was Venger."

He looked positively stunned, his mouth even moving without producing any words. "Lord Venger; you were thinking of him?" he eventually managed to choke out. At her positive nod, he dropped his hands. "What is he to you? What are you to him?" he asked in a neutral voice, without any bitterness or anger in his tone.

"I don't know," she stammered. "I really don't. Maybe I'm crazy or the victim of some spell, but I really cannot explain why I feel the way I do about him..."

Nate turned his back to her. "If what you say is true, then he may feel the same about you. Should Lord Venger hear that I kissed you, he will more than likely kill me."

"What? Why should he do such a thing?" she asked, suddenly very frightened.

"That one will brook no rivals!" He turned to face her again and his eyes looked strangely different; they shone brightly in the moonlight, giving him an expression of extreme excitement.

"He warned me not to associate with you when I first arrived," she related. "but he also said that it did not matter to him if I took his advice or not."

Nate laughed. "Of course it wouldn't matter to him; if he finds that you didn't heed his advice, he will merely make it a moot point!"

Just then the ring on her finger contracted sharply, making her gasp and clutch her finger.

"What's wrong?" he asked, turning her loose and stepping back.

The ring pulsed sharply again, making her grunt. As she held her finger she notice that the ring was becoming visible and she turned her back to him, trying to hide it. "It's nothing; just a finger that sometimes hurts," she replied.

Before she could move away, he'd grabbed her arm and spun her around so that he could take a look. The gasp he made alerted her that all was not right and when he spoke, it was with narrowed eyes and a grim expression. "The Ring of the Heart! Where did you get it? Lord Venger has been searching everywhere for it!"

"His sister gave it to me," she replied. "She said it was mine."

He stared at her in surprise and then ran a finger over the ring's garnet stone. It reacted immediately to his touch, throbbing very unpleasantly this time. "Owww!" she cried, clutching at it once more.

"Perhaps you should remove it?" he asked, looking deeply concerned.

"No! I was told not to." Seeing his hand moving towards her finger again she added sharply, "And there is no use in trying to take it from me; it cannot be taken unless it wishes it!"

He stopped.

"I just wish I knew why it has suddenly become visible, " she breathed, rubbing her finger.

"Perhaps it causes you pain and reveals itself because it wishes me to have it?" Nate asked. "Will you allow me to at least try?"

Not believing that to be the case, she nonetheless nodded her assent and to her surprise the ring let him easily slip it off her finger!

"How is this possible?" she gulped. She again remembered that Kareena had said that the ring would guide her to the one she was meant to be with. This had to mean that he was the one!

"Apparently the ring is now meant for me," Nate replied, as he hesitantly slid it on his finger.

It amazed Sheila to see that it had expanded to just the right size to fit him and the moment he had it on, it vanished even as it had when she'd first received it. "It is yours..." she breathed. "Only be very careful not to let Venger have it! Kareena told me that such a thing would have dire consequences for us all!"

He looked at her in alarm and she was shocked to see the color draining from his face.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

His eyes looked panicked for a split second when they met hers. "It shows me things I do not wish to see. I should not have put it on..."

"Then take it off!"

He tried, but the ring would not budge. "It will not let me," he grunted and then added, "I think it best that we part now before we are discovered. I will see you tomorrow and we can talk more of this then."

"No," she breathed. "Venger will be back tomorrow; his demon was sent to tell me!"

Nate frowned. "He may send me away as soon as he arrives, but somehow I will find a way to see you before I must leave, if I must leave."

"Just send the word. Now get going and be careful!" she told him. "If he finds out you have the ring..."

"He won't."

"You don't know that! Perhaps you should go out hunting so that you will have an excuse not to see him."

He merely smiled. "How long do you think I could put off a meeting if he asks for me? And where could I run that he will not find me?" When her face fell at the thought, he laid a hand against her cheek, whispering, "Be brave little thief and all will turn out well."

Then he turned and headed for the garden entrance at the far end while she backtracked towards the one she had entered through.

She'd only just re-entered her room when a voice emanating from a darkened corner made her jump in alarm.

"So! For a single kiss, the thief gives the hunter the Ring of the Heart and thinks that the Master will not know!"

Sheila's heart nearly stopped, so frightened was she, but she was not about to simply give up without at least trying to sway the little demon snitch. "Please don't tell him!" she pleaded.

The demon laughed at her. "He knows already!" he replied with glee. "The Master has returned!" he said, as he vanished.

In desperation, she left her chamber and went in search of Venger. Perhaps she would be able to reason with him and save Nate's life.

* * *

She spent over an hour looking for him, and then another hour trying to find Nate, but the servants all looked at her oddly when she asked where his room might be. Some shook their heads and walked off, while others made signs against evil and backed away. Yet another said that there was no hunter living in the castle.

Finally giving up, despondent and heart sick, she entered the empty throne room and stood on its large balcony, watching as the wind picked up and clouds grew thick, obscuring the moon.

The night was no longer as promising as it had been a short time ago and her fear for Nate struggled with her concern over Venger's injuries. She'd wanted to see him so badly; to reassure herself that he had healed, but if he was about to harm her friend, then she didn't think she'd ever willingly look at him again.

She wasn't certain how long she'd been there, but the wind had grown strong enough to whip her hair when his deep voice rumbled behind her, making her jump.

"A storm is approaching."

She nodded and replied, "For all of us" and then turned to look at him.

He walked past her to the railing and leaned upon it. He was not wearing his helmet and his long black hair blew like a dark cloud behind him as his skirt whipped around his legs. She noticed how he gripped the stone rail when he reached it and how tightly his wings were wrapped about him; as though he were hugging himself. Only then did she notice the damage to them; they were torn at the lower edges and punched through with holes. Gruesome burns covered at least a third of their visible surface and in recently healed areas, their velvet black color was merely a sickly gray.

She spoke almost without thinking, surprised by the concern evident in her voice. "My God! Are you all right?"

He nodded. "I've suffered worse and will finish healing soon enough." He turned enough to look back at her over one shoulder, then straightened and faced her directly, his face as tense as the line of his form. "What is this man to you that you would give him the Ring of the Heart?"

"What must I answer to keep you from harming him?" she countered.

He took a step towards her and then stopped and demanded in a snarl, "What is it that you feel for him?"

"Friendship! I do not feel for him what I feel for you, OK?" she retorted, fear giving way to anger that she should be questioned as though she were his child.

His expression changed from indignation to one of smug satisfaction. "And what might that be?" he asked in a softer tone.

She turned away from him and sighed, "I don't know... It's very confusing."

After what seemed an eternity, she felt his hands come down on her, his long fingers gently kneading her shoulders. "Yet you did kiss him..."

"He kissed me; I did not kiss him."

Venger sighed, his fingers suddenly sliding down to grip her arms tightly. "Only give to me what you allowed him and for your sake I will not harm the man, but understand that neither will I allow him the freedom to roam my castle."

Sheila tensed up, relieved that Nate would live but deeply upset that it would be as a prisoner. "I won't remove the ring from his finger for you. You should know that it cannot be taken by force and now resides where it wishes to be."

He spun her around to face him and to her surprise he was smiling. "I was not speaking of the ring."

What was he talking about, she wondered, thinking back to her meeting with Nate. Then his words made sense and she blushed furiously.

"You're too tall; I... I can't reach you," she stammered, too nervous and confused to think up a better excuse not to give in.

He lifted his tattered wings and she noted that one was broken and splinted. Then he knelt gracefully before her, putting his face on a level with her own as he moved his hands from her shoulders to her waist.

"Well?" he rumbled.

She was actually shaking as she leaned towards him and brought her mouth to his.

In a flash, one of his hands moved to cup the back of her head, holding her to him as he took advantage and deepened the kiss.

And what a kiss it was!

It felt as though she were back in the garden with Nate kissing her, so similarly did the kisses begin, but this kiss quickly went far beyond and grew to a level of intensity that left her mindlessly wanting more. Sharp teeth brushed over her lips without hurting her as a rough tongue explored her hungrily.

She felt herself responding with her own tongue and teeth as she held him tightly. When he slowly leaned back, she let him take her with him until he was kneeling with her in his lap and still the kiss continued, turning into another and then another.

It was only when he groaned in a deep rumble and she felt him rising beneath her that she began to come back to her senses. Somehow, she pried her mouth away and found herself staring into hooded crimson eyes. All malice and pretense seemed to be gone from them; all she saw reflected in their depths now was desire... and even admiration.

"I've missed you far more than I should," he breathed, trailing lazy kisses over her cheek to her ear, which he suddenly nibbled.

She squealed and pressed against him reflexively.

"Have you cast some spell upon me, little thief?" he murmured next to her ear, pressing her against the impressive hardness trapped between them.

As she lifted her head away from his questing mouth, she caught sight of their surroundings and gasped. "We're in your bedroom! How… when…?"

He laughed against her cheek and it came out as a deep rumble. "Those places I most frequent in the castle have become, over time, places of great power. I can move freely between them with but a thought, so imbued with centuries of my magic are they. "Still, I must admit that taking you along with me was more of a chore, although one I certainly do not mind."

She'd frozen at her discovery and now pushed him away, staring at him aghast. "Why have you brought me here?" she asked, warily.

His expression soured and he sighed with apparent exasperation. "Sheila, I'm exhausted, I'm hurt and I am not the sexual predator you seem to think me to be; much less in my current sorry state. The balcony table is set. Won't you have some wine and take some food?"

"I'm not hungry," she replied, embarrassed at having jumped to such a conclusion. "Besides, I couldn't possibly eat while Nate is locked away in your dungeon."

Venger stood suddenly and placed her on her feet, before moving off to the table and she couldn't help but notice that he was limping. Once there, he poured two glasses of white wine and held one out towards her. "Then have a little wine and stay a while; I'll make no demands on you. Only stay and I will release your friend in the morning."

"You'll release him?" she asked, as she moved towards him.

"Yes."

"Unharmed?"

"Yes and he will be free to travel as he pleases just so long as he does not enter my home."

She stopped in front of him. "Are you saying that you're willing to release him from his service to you as well?" she asked, as his words suddenly sank in.

He quirked an eyebrow at her and said with some amusement, "That is precisely what I am promising to do; if you stay."

Her heart beating rapidly, she reached for the wine glass and as her fingers closed upon the stem, he used his other arm to gather her close to him. She found herself leaning against him as he wrapped his wings around her as well, resting his damaged one on her shoulder. Beneath her ear, his heart beat slowly and steadily, proving that he was, for the moment, relaxed and giving credence to his statement that he was not going to take advantage of her.

It confused her even more to have him clinging to her like this and not from any desire other than one to simply hold on to her. Or was that it; that he was desperately seeking comfort after the traumas he'd just survived? Kareena had said that he was changing. Perhaps his near-death experience had accelerated that change.

"I don't understand you," she finally sighed, relaxing against him. Then she realized how false her words sounded, when at that moment she understood quite well how much she'd missed simply touching and feeling connected to someone; anyone.

"Oh, I think you do," he replied. "Perhaps better than anyone is ever likely to." Then he unwrapped himself from her and stepped back, indicating her chair, which she took. Sitting gingerly, he lifted his own wine glass and sipped, then took a few slices of rolled meat from the platter at the center of the table.

Sheila followed suit, finding the wine excellent and on the sweet side, and the cheese she selected moist and tasty.

When she looked up, she saw that he was watching her with an approving look and realized that he looked very weary.

"What happened to you in the north?" she asked.

He rotated his wine glass as he stared into it and then took a gulp before meeting her eyes again. "I won a war but nearly lost my life," he replied, then added, "I set right a wrong and in return wronged many."

She was silent for a time, trying to decide which question to ask him first and opted instead to state the obvious, "You cannot die."

His expression became positively gloomy. "In the place I fought, cut off from magic and no longer linked to my master, I was merely mortal. Otherwise, you are correct to some extent, for only I may otherwise end my existence."

"You're saying that you can only die if you kill yourself?" she asked, horrified.

"Save for the circumstances of this past week, yes." He drank down the rest of his glass and then refilled it.

"Is this because of 'you-know-who'? Is it part of what he did to you?" she asked.

Again, he stared into his glass, this time refusing to meet her eyes. "Part of what he did to me; yes."

An uncomfortable silence settled over them then. To her surprise, he was the first to break it. "There was a woman amongst the dead of the city," he whispered, barely audibly. His eyes remained on his drink, but his voice sounded troubled indeed. "She looked almost exactly like someone I once…"

"Once what?" she prompted, leaning towards him as a strange case of the butterflies took over her stomach. Somehow she knew what he was about to say even before he said it.

His eyes finally met hers. "Long ago I was capable of love. The woman I saw in the street looked like my betrothed, my Suhailah, now gone from me these many centuries."

"What happened to her?" she asked without thinking.

Venger knew to which woman she referred. "She left me," he said, standing and putting down his glass. "She left me when I most needed her." Taking Sheila's glass from her, he put it down as well and then offered her a hand up.

"It is nearly dawn. I am weary and must sleep," he commented as she stood. "Come, when we arise, your friend shall go free."

He began leading her indoors, but she pulled at his hand, making him stop and look at her impatiently.

"Where do you think you are taking me?"

"To bed, of course!" he quipped.

When she continued to balk, he took another tactic; stepping in close and scooping her into his arms, he kissed her soundly, only raising his head to husk out in a low tone, "I'm taking you to my bed, Sheila, but only to sleep; nothing more than that. You did promise to stay, did you not?"

"Yes, but not overnight and most definitely not in your bed!"

"Come now; you didn't really think that I meant for you to stay a mere half hour, did you?" he asked, his expression disappointed.

"I suppose not," she finally sighed, feeling quite stupid.

He rewarded her honesty with another quick kiss. Then he limped to the bed and with a mock growl, tossed her upon it as he sat and began removing his boots.

"That wasn't very nice," she protested, sitting up.

He looked back over his shoulder as he freed one boot and tossed it in a corner. "I shall tell you what isn't very nice; me stripping your dress and shoes from you because you fail to do so yourself."

She stopped smiling. "You wouldn't?"

He tossed his other boot and stared at her. "You know the answer to that, now don't you?"

Obediently, Sheila moved to sit at the edge of the bed next to him and began unlacing her shoes, then gaped as she saw him stand and then remove his epaulets and his skirt. She swallowed hard as she watched him undressing, her shoes all but forgotten. His body armor came off next, as he unbuckled the front piece at the shoulders and then gingerly slipped his wings through the openings of the back plate. He placed the armor pieces beside the bed, and was left standing only in his gray breeches and an orange tunic.

Noting that she was no longer undressing, he fixed her with another smirk and raised eyebrow. "Having problems with those?" he inquired.

With a gulp she removed her shoes, then stole another look at him as he stripped off his tunic. She could feel herself blushing when his upper body was revealed. His arms, chest and even his abdomen was impressively sculpted; muscular and smooth in a way that made her long to run her hands over him. What made her gasp, however, was her dismay over the massive bruising of the skin over his right side and right arm, as well as the healing gouges on his belly and arms.

Her intake of breath drew his gaze and he immediately realized what upset her. "It is nothing… now," he shrugged. "Do not concern yourself over it." With a grumble at how little progress she'd made removing her dress, he walked around to the other side of the bed and then lay upon it, all the while watching her.

Realizing that the sooner she got into bed with him, the sooner he would stop staring; she undid the laces of her gown and pulled it off. Now dressed only in her white muslin shift, she walked to a corner chair and laid the gown neatly upon it. When she turned to return to the bed, she noticed that his eyes were closed. Could he have fallen asleep that quickly?

He never moved as she approached, but when she made to slip beneath the covers, his hand snaked out and gripped her wrist, then pulled her atop the covers until she was right alongside him. His eyes opened lazily as he shifted closer, encircling her with one arm and then covering her with a wing. "Go to sleep little thief," he said sleepily.

After he closed his eyes, Sheila remained perfectly still, afraid to disturb him by shifting her position. She stared at his features, for the first time able to truly study him at her leisure and as she did so, her heart finally slowed to a normal pace.

A few moments later, his slack mouth and steady breathing told her he was deeply asleep. She continued watching him, feeling safer, warmer and more comfortable than she'd felt in a very long time. Moments later, she too, was fast asleep.

* * *

That night when he slept, he dreamed of his Ailah. He hadn't thought about her for many, many lifetimes before seeing her doppleganger lying dead in the street. He hadn't dreamed of her since the years following her betrayal, hadn't even really remembered much about how she looked.

Now, in his dreams, he relived the last fateful days of their shared lives and relived the pain of her loss. Because of her, he'd refused to love or trust or care... until the now-adult thief had reentered his life.

In his dream, he saw Suhailah clearly; her long chestnut hair and golden skin, her pale amber colored eyes weeping as she pleaded with him to let her go. Then he saw her dead on the floor, surrounded by deep blue liquid and forever beyond his reach. The surroundings faded out and now she was dead on a city street, her blood running into the gutter. Lastly and worse yet, she faded out and was instead replaced with an equally dead Sheila, whose face he only just then realized, was Suhailah's face; only the coloration was different!

He awoke with a start, breathing heavily and filled with nightmare-born anxiety. In the dark he nuzzled the woman in his arms and kissed her gently.

Only then was he able to convince himself that all was well and fall back to sleep.

But sleep repeatedly eluded him. Nightmare after nightmare startled him awake until later in the day, when he gave up even trying to sleep and merely rested while looking over the woman in his arms

* * *

In the morning she awoke to find him watching her through tired-looking eyes. Those eyes were a vivid red in the golden glow of the morning, the black markings beneath them larger than usual, but his face was more gray than blue, exhaustion more than evident in it. She sighed, then yawned as she tried to burrow down under the warm, velvety covers, only belatedly realizing that it was his wing.

He watched her with amusement as she smiled shyly and wished him a good morning. "Good evening, more like," he rumbled. "That is the sunset approaching; not dawn."

"We slept all day?" she choked.

"Apparently," he replied as a small smile tugged at one corner of his mouth.

"But I've a feeling that you did not sleep very well, if at all," she breathed. "As battle damaged as you are, you should have from exhaustion alone."

He nodded and then lifted his wing up to the light. "Still, merely resting did me a world of good. See; I am nearly as good as new."

And it was true; the tears had healed, as had the last of the burns and punctures. Sheila would have been more impressed, if the wing hadn't been her warm cover. Shivering in the cooler air of the room, she grasped the leading edge of his limb and pulled it back down over her, making him chuckle.

"Ah, so now you actually like being in my arms now, do you?" he husked.

"You make a good blanket, is all," she mumbled, causing him to laugh outright.

Then he suddenly grew serious again, speaking as he brushed her hair back from her face with his hand, "I think you should know that I intend to pursue many more nights spent just so with you. More to the point; I intend to pursue you."

Sheila grew serious as well. "It was just for the night," she reminded him. "And only because of an agreement we had. You will set Nate free now, won't you?"

Venger showed his teeth as he growled with annoyance. "He was set free moments before you awakened, when I summoned Shadow Demon to me and commanded him to see to it."

"Venger," she sighed. "How can this ever work out? We may be drawn to each other, but that doesn't mean that we won't end up destroying each other instead. Let's face it; I'm basically as moral and good a person as you'll find, whereas you..."

He placed a finger to her lips. "How is it that you allowed Nate to become your friend, despite my warnings to you about him?"

She almost rolled her eyes at him. "I don't judge people by their past or what I hear about them. I always give them the benefit of the doubt and judge them for who they are now, based upon their actions."

He nodded. "So then, have I done anything to make you believe I would harm you? Have I done anything that would make you believe I would use you?"

"No," she breathed, seeing the trap she'd fallen into.

"Then you will not judge me by my past, but only upon the here and now." He gripped her chin and forced her to look him in the eye. "I set your friend free, didn't I? I always keep my promises, little thief and I promise you this; sooner or later you will sleep with me again when you do, it will not be due to an agreement, nor will we merely be sleeping… You will come to me because you cannot help but seek me out, even as I cannot help but seek you."

She gaped at him, surprised by the passion of his words.

"We are tied together in some way, you and I. When you've lived as long as I have you come to see that some things are written... and cannot be avoided or changed."

"We all have free will!" she protested.

He shrugged. "That does not mean that we choose who will be important in our lives. When we ignore or deny those we are meant to interact with, we merely put off the inevitable; sooner or later, in this life or the next, we must find the right path to take with them. I think that somehow you and I have unfinished business."

Rolling away from her, he stood and stretched, giving her a good look at his muscular back, as well as his backside. She nearly groaned aloud at the sight, but then sat up, surprised when he stalked away.

"Where are you going?" she asked, as he reached the doorway.

He moved a wing out of the way so that he could look back over his left shoulder, making his smirk clearly visible. "I'm off to relieve by bladder," he said, with some amusement.

She blushed and flopped back down on the bed. "Oh..."

She heard his voice echo slightly when he called back as he reached the sitting room, "Why don't you go freshen up and then return for a meal?"

At that she hopped from the bed, dressed and then let herself out just as she heard him splashing about in his bathing pool.

* * *

As she made her way back to Venger's chambers a while later, Sheila continued to try to make sense of her feelings for him. It was confusing to say the least and he was right; she did get an odd sense that they were destined to be something to each other. She just didn't understand what or why... and there were far too many 'whys'!

Why him, of all the people in this world? Why would she find herself becoming attached to so evil a being and then discover that she cared? Why would such an evil creature care for her?

And how could she justify turning a blind eye to the things he did; the atrocities he would continue to inflict in his quest to rule this world utterly? Wouldn't that make her as evil as he?

Kareena had said that she could save him, that it was important to all the Realm. Could it be that someone as small and insignificant as herself could change him for the better? How?

And for that matter, Kareena had told her the ring would lead her to the man she was supposed to be with, yet that ring now resided on Nate's finger and he was banished from this castle. Hmm, he had, on the other hand, been a prisoner in Venger's castle even as Kareena had predicted... so perhaps they would meet again. But once again, if he were the one then what was going on between her and Venger?

Her head spinning with unanswerable questions, she pushed open his door and reentered his chambers.

She found him on the balcony, standing beside the table and he held out a hand to her as she appeared. He'd obviously heard her come in and she quickly moved forward to take his hand. She was quickly pulled into his arms and given a passionate kiss that left her gasping for air.

"You look lovely," he murmured against her cheek.

"It's only the gown," she countered, indicating the royal blue brocade fabric. "It was Suhailah's, wasn't it?"

He lifted his head and frowned, then stepped back to look at her. "It was indeed Ailah's," he replied. "Yet, it was not the gown I was speaking of, but the woman within it. How could you not know how beautiful you have grown, when every male stops what he is doing just to watch you pass by?"

She blushed deeply. "I guess I have the typical ugly red head duckling syndrome," she replied. "All the other kids make fun of you when your hair is carrot colored."

He moved forward and ran a hand over her tresses, tangling his fingers in the ends and lifting it so he could admire the color in the light of the setting sun. "Children's immature and petty perceptions generally mean little. On this world, such a color is rare and admired where it appears. It is thought of as the sign of one who has a destiny to fulfill."

Removing her hair from his hand, she moved away, more unnerved than ever. "Please don't say that," she whispered.

"I see that the thought disturbs you," he rumbled thoughtfully behind her. "Very well; we shall speak no more of it. Come now, let us eat, for I must soon attend to some matters elsewhere."

She moved back to her seat as he held it out for her and this time he pushed it in once she'd sat. After he, too, had taken his seat, she spoke, "Will you be gone long?"

He began heaping meat, eggs and vegetables on their plates. "Rest assured that I shall return in time to woo you to my bed," he said, smiling wickedly.

She stared at him incredulously, even though a suddenly longing rippled through her. "You really are something else, aren't you?" She asked, astounded. "You seem almost too tired to eat, yet you speak of such things!"

His reply was accompanied by one of his famous smirks, "Yes, I am something, Sheila; something you have never before encountered. You may be young and relatively inexperienced, but surely even you realize that a woman does not tell a man he is too tired to perform without him setting out to prove her wrong?"

At the look on her face he laughed softly, then reached out to brush her hair back. "Do not worry, my little thief; what I want from you cannot be taken by force or coercion; it must be given freely."

"And what is it that you want?" she asked bluntly.

He raised an eyebrow. "I think you know the answer to your own question."

"But I don't! All I have are questions and no hint as to their answers!"

He looked thoughtful, then shrugged. "In this place, you have all the time you need to find those answers," he replied cryptically. "I myself have all the time anyone could wish in which to wait you out."

They ate in silence for a time, each sneaking looks at the other, but as Venger was about to excuse himself, she found her courage. "May I ask you something?"

"Of course." He stood and helped her to her feet.

"What did Suhailah look like?"

He inhaled suddenly, clearly surprised by her question, but then composed himself. When he spoke, he seemed to be far away, as if reliving a memory, "She had the honey tan skin of the nomads, with large, golden brown eyes and chestnut hair that lit a red color in the sun." Then his eyes came back to stare at her with an intensity that made her uncomfortable. "Aside from your coloration, you and she could easily have been identical twins," he admitted.

Then he bowed and leaped off the balcony so quickly that Sheila nearly fainted from fright. Running to the railing, she was in time to see his wings snap open. He landed lightly, folded his wings and stalked out of the garden.

It seemed obvious to her that he'd found it upsetting to admit the similarities between herself and Suhailah to her, and so he had literally taken off at the first opportunity.

"He was right," she breathed. "I do understand him better than I thought."

* * *

Once out of her sight, Venger ducked into the nearest empty room and leaned heavily upon the wall. Little did his intended realize that a war now raged within him; he was besieged with pain and tormented with visions. Unable to sleep, he was finding it hard to keep up the pretense of being strong and unaffected.

Another terrible pain stabbed through him and he shuddered violently. When it passed, he panted and composed himself, then pushed off from the wall and headed towards his sanctum, which was located part way up the castle's rear turret.

He had to find out how to counter this before it destroyed him!

* * *

After visiting the tower and several other favorite spots in the castle, Sheila spent an hour enjoying the garden. She was about to leave when a friendly neigh made her turn around. "Nightmare!" she cried, running to greet the steed with a quick hug and a scratch of it's ears.

The horse seemed forlorn and listless, leaning his great head on her shoulder and cocking one rear foot in the manner horses had when trying to sleep.

"Here now; what's the matter with you," she asked, rubbing his head and looking into one large, intelligent eye.

The steed nickered and then blew out its breath before again relaxing. That was when it dawned on her that Venger might well have been on the Nightmare when he was injured, therefore the demon horse might also have been badly hurt.

"Poor thing!" she murmured. "I'll bet that you're recovering too, aren't you?"

It lifted its head to look at her, then gave her a push, and turning, vanished into the ether.

Sheila jumped and stared around her, suddenly feeling quite anxious. "I've never seen him do that before," she breathed, certain that something was dreadfully wrong.

* * *

In his sanctum, Venger collapsed, too tired to continue his research. His hopes for an easy solution were fading with his energy. He could try to summon the master, but even if he deigned to respond, it would surely mean Sheila's death.

Oh, his Master would heal him, but only at the cost of restoring him to servitude and destroying the woman.

That meant that he had no choice but to accelerate his pursuit of the earth woman. Not only was she cause of his current state; she also held the key to saving him.

"It is too much," he mumbled, forcing himself to stand and realizing just how weak he was. "I cannot continue crossing the master's will and bleeding magic into the air around me; not while also fighting this cursed thing!"

Sooner or later, he knew he would turn back into the Master's puppet, unless the thief set things right. Without her, he had no hope; he would be plunged back into a repeat of those first awful days of his fiendish existence.

Somehow, he managed to compose himself. Then he left the room, in search of the one he'd waited so very long for.

* * *

After leaving the garden, Sheila wandered through some of the rooms where she felt she had a chance of encountering Venger.

It was as she was making her way behind the throne, wandering aimlessly through the audience room, she noticed that the hidden door that Venger both entered and exited through when holding court, was ajar. Normally it was sealed so well as to be undetectable. She'd been told about it by one of the housekeepers she'd chatted up the day of her arrival and had also been informed that only Venger himself could open it.

Looking around to make certain she wasn't being watched, she slowly opened the door and peered inside. The room beyond was quite large and seemed to be a library. There was even a table strewn with maps.

She supposed it made sense to be able to do your research before greeting your subjects and Generals.

"Hello Sheila."

At the sound of her name being called, she jumped guiltily and spun to see the Dungeon Master, of all people, sitting atop a stack of large tomes.

She could feel her face becoming hot as her temper flared; he was the last person in the entire Realm she ever wanted to see again!

"I can see that you are still angry with me," he said, managing to look quite sad.

"What are you doing here?" she ground out. "And for that matter how is it that you are here when Venger tells me that you cannot enter his castle?"

He smiled slightly. "It was my castle before it was ever his," he replied. "And I can still enter those areas where my magic is its strongest; like this library. As to why I am here; I come bringing good advice."

He pointed at a thick tome, which fell off a shelf and opened when it hit the ground. "Venger knows that it is wise to know both your enemies and your friends. How much do you know about yours?"

She looked at the fallen book. "Not much, I suppose…" She stopped when a glance back showed her that the small man had vanished. "Little troll…" she whispered to herself. "Wish he would stop making guest appearances in my life!"

Moving across the floor, she picked up the tome. There was no telling when Venger might return, so it was best to check it out immediately and then get the hell out of Dodge.

Although she could speak and understand the primary language of the Realm, the result of some spell placed upon all of them by Dungeon Master when they'd been transported here, the spell did not extend to reading. And even after these many years, her ability to read the language was not the best; she'd had precious little time when she wasn't working in which to learn it properly. So now, as she scanned the open pages of the book, she understood little of what she was reading… until her eyes lit on a particular paragraph:

_**And to him were born twins; alike in feature except that one was fair while the other was dark, yet both were gray on the inside. The dark one was male and given the name Natharious while the light one, his twin sister, was named Kareena.**_

"Natharious," she breathed. "Venger's name is Natharious... and the shortened version would be... Nate." She nearly fell over as shock over her discovery took her.

"My God... How could I not have seen it before?" she breathed. "Natharius is the man trapped within the fiend now known only as Venger, making Nate the man trapped within Venger's Castle!"

Of course it all made sense now: the ring had responded to both Venger and Nate because they were one and the same person!

"Sheila, how did you get in here?"

At the deep voice, she jumped, but did not cringe as she might otherwise have. In her mind all the puzzle pieces had come together and the final picture they made was enough to inure her for a time against any external shock.

Turning, she fixed Venger with a stare so malevolent that he took a step backwards as she advanced towards him. Yet, she could not sustain her anger more than the length of time it took her to reach him. As she came to standstill right before him, she stared up at his face, finding his features suddenly so hauntingly reminiscent of Nate that she was surprised that she hadn't stumbled on the truth herself.

He was tense; obviously having realized that something serious had occurred, although not yet guessing what it might be.

Reaching up, she lightly cupped his cheek even as her tears began to fall. "I have judged you based upon your current actions," she said. "and I find you to be a liar and every bit as manipulative as your father. To think that I very nearly fell for your words about certain things being written... To think that I was contemplating actually forgetting what it is you do, what it is you are... " She stopped and had to compose herself enough to sob out, "To think that I thought that I was falling in love with you, Venger. Or should I call you Natharius or perhaps... Nate?"

There was a look of stunned horror on his face as she stepped aside and placed the tome, still open to the fateful page, upon the table beside him.

Then she ran from the room.

When she'd reached the corridor to the stairs she heard him bellow out; the sound echoing eerily throughout the castle.

It was the sound of loss.

**Next time: Life and Death... and Life**


	6. Life and Death and Life

**Twist of Fate**  
A Dungeons & Dragons story by Tina Price. Eleven years have passed and things have not fared well in the Realm. The Children have long since disbanded, after having abandoned Dungeon Master and his manipulations. During the years that followed, good has slowly been consumed by evil...

**Disclaimer: ** Venger, Sheila and all characters therein are the property of the Walt Disney Company.

**Rating: **This chapter is rated **NC-17** for non-consensual content.

* * *

**Life and Death... and Life**

After Sheila had run from the library, he'd looked down at the open tome to confirm his worse fears. She had indeed learned who he was and chances were that he would not be able to win back her trust in time...

He'd collapsed then, and bellowed as all the pain and frustration of a millennium of thwarted dreams came down upon him. It was going to end and soon... without him ever having had a chance to accomplish anything of lasting value.

"So be it," he finally whispered to himself. He was tired of the fight, yet he would not go back to being his master's puppet.

Never!

Yet, before he made his final plans, he would try to set things right with Sheila.

* * *

Sheila locked herself in her room and then collapsed on the bed. 

Now, more confused than shocked over her discovery, she was no longer crying. Questions ran round and round in her head as she wondered why he'd kept up the elaborate ruse. Although she could see why he would disguise himself to come into the inn and fetch her for Kareena's funeral, it begged the question; why had he continued and even gone out of his way to perpetuate the ruse?

She wasn't even certain at this point what it was she was feeling, she felt so many different things; betrayal, anger, even grief. Time seemed to stop as she lay on her bed staring sightlessly up at the ceiling. When the knock came at the door behind the tapestry, it was so soft that at first she thought she was hearing things.

Then it came again.

Getting off the bed, she moved cautiously to the door and pulled the hanging back. "What?" she asked, in no mood to disguise her displeasure.

Venger's voice came from the other side. "Sheila... open the door and allow me to explain myself."

"I don't see how you can," she replied.

"Come, open the door and at least allow me the chance," he pressed.

She almost refused when she again felt tears pricking her eyes, the result of a sudden surge of strongly felt injustice. With a sigh, she unlocked the door and stepped back as he lifted the tapestry and entered.

They stood there for some time, neither talking; he watching her while she looked everywhere but at him.

She eventually broke the silence. "Were you testing my loyalty?"

He shook his head. "No."

"Then why?"

It was his turn to study both his boots and the floor. "You treated me as though I were someone you could respect. When you let down your guard and talked to me, I felt as though I were someone worthy. Although it may sound strange, I only feel whole when you are near and it was a way in which I could be near you," he said, so softly it was nearly whispered.

Again there was silence between them as Sheila mulled over his words.

She was again the one to speak first. "And this alternate version of you; was he merely an act, a character?"

He shook his head. "I created him a very long time ago. I have several such disguises. The hunter proves useful quite often in poorer, outlying towns."

"That is not what I asked," she sighed. "Was Nate just an elaborate act, or was he really just you; the you that does not fear being seen as human?"

He stared at her for some time and she couldn't help but notice again just how tired he looked. "I suppose that was me," he admitted. "Aside from keeping the obvious from you, I took no great pains to act in a manner contrary to myself."

"I see," she breathed. "That makes this a little easier to bear, but you should know that it's still as though I've just lost a friend; one whom, it turns out, I never really knew at all. This entire situation is very hard to deal with and has only gone from bad to worse."

"Anything you ask of me I will grant," he said, moving closer. "Only say that you will not leave."

She shook her head and started to back away, but he reached out with a wing; funny how she forgot the incredible reach of those appendages, and pulled her to him. "Just leave me alone! I'm angry, I'm hurt and I just cannot deal with you now," she protested, as he ignored her and held on tightly. She fought for a moment and then gave up, sagging against him as the dam broke and she began crying. "I need time. I need time... to think," she sobbed. "

He held her close, rocking her against him as he leaned his chin atop her head. "I am out of time, Sheila," he breathed. "I am out of resources and strength. Without you I am defeated. Tell me you will stay!"

She lifted her head and stared into his face. "Aren't you listening to what I say? I can't promise you anything right now; I need to think it through..."

"It is you who are not listening; I keep telling you there is no time," he reiterated passionately as he lifted his head to stared down at her. "You must stay the night with me or all is lost and you will never understand what is at stake if you leave!"

She lifted her head to stare at him, sensing the very real fear lurking beneath his impassioned plea. "Tell me what is happening. What is it that you fear and why do you keep insisting on me warming your bed?"

He looked as though she had slapped him and his eyes widened in alarm. "I cannot," he breathed.

"Why not?"

He actually bellowed then, as though in pain, then gasped out, "I cannot say…"

A strange calm settled over her then, as she placed her hands on his chest and then pushed against him until he released her. "Then my answer must be no," she said, indicating the door.

He grew angry then, for the first time since they'd become reacquainted with each other and grabbing the back of her neck, shook her until her teeth rattled. "You foolish woman!" he bellowed. "It is true that I have erred grievously, but would you see me dead to appease your pride?" He stopped shaking her, gripped her upper arms and hauled her off the floor so that she was at his eye level. "You want me; I can feel it! I ask only that you lie beside me, nothing more. You know that you may trust me to keep my word; else last night would have ended much differently. This is not a matter of trust but a matter of your pride!"

Angry at the way he handled her and humiliated by his knowing comments, she lashed out, "I would rather sleep next to an Orc than next to thing like you!"

He gaped at her and then dropped her suddenly. Unprepared for the quick release, she landed in a heap at his feet.

When she looked up, it was in time to see his last wingtip disappear through the door before it slammed shut behind him.

* * *

Hours later, Venger huddled in a sitting position and leaned against the wall of his chamber just the other side of her bed. Using magic, he'd actually moved his own bed away from the same wall so that he could get behind it, desperate to get close enough to ease the torment the ring inflicted upon him, for it only abated when she was near. 

There was no doubt that he would not sleep again this night; the ring ended each such attempt with nightmares in which he discovered his beloved Suhailah dead upon his alchemy room floor; having taken her own life to escape him.

No, he'd come to terms with the sleeplessness, knowing that sooner or later he would lose consciousness and sleep despite the nightmares. What he sought now was enough respite from the waking visions the ring gave to continue the battle to remain his own self. It was a battle he was slowly losing as his loss of control hours ago had brought home to him with a great deal of finality.

Sheila: he'd been frustrated enough to actually hurt her! Why could she not see that he was under a gees not to speak of his predicament? He himself only knew what helped him, not the whys or wherefores of how this entire thing had come to pass. What he did know, however, was that the ring's behavior and his current ability to function as himself were somehow tied to Sheila and her previous ownership of the trinket.

With a groan he shifted his position and then rose to his feet. It was no use; perhaps he should conjure himself to her chambers and slide into her bed besides her while she slept. He could put a sleep spell on her and be gone before she awoke.

But no, he could tell that she was still awake herself and even if he could follow through, it would not be worth the risk of losing more of her understanding.

With a deep, drawn-out grumble and taking a delight in the perversity of it, he dressed in one of his outfits of old, from days gone by when he'd been a hero.

Then he left his chambers. He would walk the corridors of the castle until he could walk no further and then he would sleep one way or the other…

* * *

Sheila was up early the next morning, not having slept at all. It was an easy choice to ignore the breakfast that was brought in to her; she wasn't likely to feel hungry anything soon after last night. 

Her mind was in turmoil and she kept thinking back on what he'd said about her pride leading to his death. How was her not sleeping beside him going to end up killing him?

And then there was the fact that she'd called him a thing. Even now she blushed with shame at her words. Whether or not she liked it, this was the same person she had thought of as her friend when he'd appeared to her as Nate. Even though his anger had frightened her, she could see now in hindsight that he hadn't harmed her; that his frustration had finally caused him to snap.

Despite that, she really hadn't been justified in lashing out at him with the intention of hurting him!

Her heart heavy, she left her chambers in search of him and fortunately, spotted him atop the tower when she entered the courtyard a short time later.

With a sigh, she crossed the courtyard and entered the tower staircase, emerging at the top after a long, tiring climb.

"Venger?"

He turned to face her and she was surprised to see him dressed in cream-colored breeches and a silver-embroidered white tunic. Even his boots were silver, with cream embellishments. He was impeccably groomed and had his hair tied back with a silver ribbon.

What frightened her was that despite his dress and grooming, his face was a ghastly gray, his eyes dull and sunken. He stared at her as though he didn't recognize her at first.

"Venger; I'm glad I found you. I just wanted to say that I'm sorry about what I said last night," she stammered. "I don't think of you as a thing; you're my friend and I do care what happens to you." He looked down at her hands, which were clenched before her and only then did she realized that she was wringing them together. Somehow she forced herself to stop.

"You have to understand that I cannot sleep with you right now. It would be a big mistake when I'm so confused and when you refuse to tell me what is going on."

He did the unexpected then; moving closer, he knelt before her and took her hand. "You know it goes against my nature to plead or beg, but I beg you now to forgive me."

She felt her eyes tear up. "You have my forgiveness… and yes, even my trust, but that is all I can give you at the moment."

He bowed his head for a moment, then lifted it and held her gaze with his crimson eyes. "I would marry you if you would have me," he said.

"What?" She gasped, shocked to the core by the unexpected proposal. "You're not serious!"

"I've never been more serious. Marry me and all I have will then be yours."

"But… I don't want your things," she stammered.

"Better that you should inherit them than any other," he breathed. "Give me your answer on it."

"Inherit them? Venger; what are you saying?"

He sighed and bowed his head again. When he spoke he sounded very tired. "Your answer, Sheila. Please?"

"I can't."

He dropped her hand then and stood. "Then this must be our farewell."

"What?" she gaped at him, but he'd turned away from her, spreading his wings angrily so that they opened with a loud snap. Then he leaped over the low tower wall and was gone.

Sheila stared after him for a time, her thoughts in turmoil and her heart beating rapidly. Now she knew for certain that something was very wrong. "I should have tried to reason with him," she breathed.

"There is no reasoning with one in his state," came a quiet voice behind her.

She turned with a gasp and to her astonishment saw Dungeon Master standing in the shadows of the stairs.

"Let me guess; you can be here because in the past you spent a lot of time lurking here," she ground out.

He merely nodded then spoke again. "Sheila, you must remember that the heart rules the mind, but the mind holds the keys to the soul. You have restored Venger's heart to him, but not his soul."

"Huh? How am I supposed to do that?" she asked.

The little man shook his head as though upset. "So long as he is in his current state, Venger fights a continuous battle with his master. He fights to remain as you now know him rather than becoming the puppet he was, but it is a battle he will lose without your help."

"What should I do?" she pleaded as he began to withdraw into the dark doorway.

"Give him back the keys..." His voice faded out even as he disappeared from view.

Sheila moved back to the edge of the tower and leaned on the low outer wall as she thought through Dungeon Master's words. She understood what he'd meant when he'd said that she had restored Venger's heart to him; she'd given him the Ring of the Heart.

"The heart rules the mind and the mind holds the keys to the soul," she repeated. Did that mean that the Ring of the Heart was taking over Venger's mind? But then, what did he mean about the mind holding the keys to the soul? He'd said that Venger has no soul and that she had to help him or he would become the Venger she'd once known once more.

Still, something in the back of her mind made her believe that it was almost worst than that; Venger had sounded as though he were going off to his final rest.

Yet, wouldn't Dungeon Master tell her if that were the case, after all that would make his reverting without her help a moot point!

"Since when did that old man ever really show concern for anyone?" she questioned aloud. "All he cares about is the Realm, not those of us who are pawns in the fight!"

Feeling her anxiety growing, she suddenly remembered something that really put her over the edge; Venger had said that aside from being mortally wounded when he was cut off from magic, that he couldn't die except by his own hand.

"I've got to keep an eye on him!"she yelled, and made for the tower stairs at a full run.

* * *

Sheila spent fifteen minutes looking through the usual places Venger might be and was just crossing the courtyard again when a tall man entered from the side nearest the castle gate. His hair was a reddish brown and he wore a neatly trimmed goatee. Somehow he seemed familiar and stopped to stare at her as though he recognized her as well. 

"Mistress!"

She jumped violently as the shadow demon approached and addressed her and she had to wonder at his calling her such a thing. "Yes?" she asked, hesitantly.

"This man is here to see you. As he is one whom you once traveled with, I took the liberty of having the Orcs admit him."

His words enough to put the final puzzle piece in place, she ran to the man and embraced him. "Presto!"

"Sheila!" he replied, hugging her tightly for a moment before releasing her. "I'm so glad to find you well!"

"You've grown up well, I see," she remarked with a blush, suddenly shy.

"What about you?" he laughed. "You're beautiful!"

She blushed even redder. "What brings you to Venger's castle of all places?' she asked, trying to understand how he could suddenly have appeared.

"Oh my gosh! I was so glad to see you that it slipped my mind for a second!" he exclaimed, suddenly looking upset. "I was send by Dungeon Master and I've been traveling as quickly as I can for days. He said I might arrive just in time to save someone…"

"Venger!" she shrieked and started to run off, before stopping suddenly. She had no way of knowing where he was unless… "Shadow Demon!" she yelled.

To her great surprise and relief, he appeared almost instantly, making her wonder if he hadn't been lurking and listening the entire time.

"He is in his alchemy room," the creature informed them. "This way! Hurry!"

A glance over her shoulder showed Presto right behind her as she held up her skirts and ran after the demon.

To her surprise they were led to the nearest turret entrance and up the stairs to where a door opened onto an interior room at the core. There, Shadow Demon hovered anxiously.

"The door is locked, Mistress!" he warned.

"Stand back!" Presto stepped up and spoke a word as he pointed at the door and the tumblers were instantly heard to turn in the lock. Ignoring her surprised look, he gripped the handle and shoved the heavy wood barrier open.

Beyond was a circular, windowless room filled with bookshelves and heavy wooden tables. There were potions and ingredients of every king filling nearly every available space.

"Whoa!" Presto breathed, but she barely even glanced at the surroundings, instead shoving past him and moving into the room.

She found him crumpled on the ground behind one of the tables, a broken flask still clutched in his hand, blue liquid spilling out of his mouth and circling the floor around him.

"No!" she screamed, running to him and feeling his neck for a pulse. "No!"

Then Presto was on the floor beside her.

* * *

Sheila's scream of anguish told the young magician all he needed to know about her relationship with the fiendish mage and snapped him out of his admiration of the room. 

Running across the room, he knelt beside her and realized exactly what had happened. Moreover, Sheila's frantic search for a pulse let him know there wasn't one. "Do you remember CPR from school?" he asked her. At her nod he pointed to the mage. "Good. Start doing it and keep it up until I tell you otherwise!"

"What has he taken?"

"Never mind that now; get going and I will explain what I'm dong; there's no time to waste!"

As she wiped Venger's mouth with the hem of her skirt and got him in the proper position, Presto stood and ran to the nearest workbench, where he began to assemble the items needed for a counter potion.

"He took ," he said, as he worked. "It works very much like cyanide in our world and in a large enough dose is almost instantly fatal."

Sheila was now doing chest compressions and sobbing. "Can you save him, Presto?"

"The thing about it is that it completely binds up the red blood cells, leaving the victim unable to absorb any oxygen," he said, as he glanced back at her. "Give him more breaths and less compressions," he directed before continuing his explanation. "Sometimes when the potion is very strong, one sip is enough to render the person unconscious before they can consume enough to instantly kill them."

He began to actually assemble his antidote, sweating with the effort to create it so quickly while not making an error. "If he's very lucky, that's what happened to Venger. Don't get me wrong; under those circumstances the portion will still kill, but it will take the smaller dose longer to deactivate all the red blood cells. So long as enough of them are still carrying oxygen until I get this potion done, he may live."

"Hurry, Presto!" she gasped, coming up for air to do more compressions. "He's really turning blue now!"

"I'm nearly done!" He mixed in a few more liquids. "This potion will deactivate the other so that his red cells can again carry oxygen to his body. It will also instantly oxygenate his blood."

Stepping back from the bench, he swirled the flask as he searched drawers for further supplies. Finally finding what he needed, he grabbed a long tube and a funnel before moving to Sheila's side. "This is going to get messy," he warned. "No matter what happens, keep doing those chest compressions!"

She nodded and he placed the potion on the floor beside him, gripped Venger's jaw and pulled it down as he tilted his head back. As Sheila looked on in sick fascination, he began working the tube down the rear of the mage's throat. "Stop a minute," he told her, then when she sat back and tried to catch her breath he began blowing on the tube.

Venger's chest didn't rise, but his belly did. As a final test, Presto gave his patient's stomach a violent push, which resulted in a belch.

"That's good!" he yelled, then attached the funnel and poured half the flask of potion down the tube and into Venger's gut. "He spoke the words of power to activate the cure and watched, satisfied as the liquid remaining in the flask began to glow.

"Move!" he yelled at Sheila, then took up her position and began doing chest compressions. "We have to get it absorbed and circulating through his body!"

Sheila meantime, had moved to Venger's head and now cradled it on her lap, still crying, her tears falling slowly upon the clinically dead mage's face. "How long until we know?" she gulped.

"Soon." He spared her a glance while he worked. "Uh… you might not want to be up there," he warned.

Four minutes later, ready to give up, he stopped pressing on Venger's chest and sat back on his heels. "Check for a pulse," he asked, for the third time in as many minutes.

Sheila placed her fingers on Venger's neck and after a few seconds, frowned. "I think…" she began to say and was interrupted by a huge geyser of liquid, which fountained out of the mage's open mouth, soaking her. "Ewww!" she protested, yet did not back away or release him.

"Sorry. Warned you about that," he gasped, exhausted, but happy that he'd been in time to save the fiend after all. Rising, he gathered a few rags from the room and wet them down with water at the basin in the corner. Then he staggered back to Sheila and handed them to her, then took his patient's pulse.

She began cleaning both herself and Venger off. "Presto, I can never thank you enough for saving him…" she began.

He held up a hand. "He isn't saved until we know why he did this. Until the underlying reason is gone, this may well prove to be a temporary reprieve and you can bet that next time he'll make certain that a resuscitation is impossible!"

* * *

Sheila spent the next ten minutes explaining how they had reached their current predicament while Presto sat quietly, listening and rarely asking a question. When she finished her tale, he looked at her thoughtfully. 

"He grew ill after he got the Ring of the Heart back?" he asked. When she nodded, he continued thoughtfully, "Just as Kareena predicted…"

They sat in silence for a time until Presto began to stare at her strangely.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I want you to take the ring from his finger," he said. "Don't ask me any questions, just do it. Trust me."

Nervously, she leaned over Venger, gripped the ring and then sat back surprised at how easily it let her take it.

"Put it on Sheila," Presto said. "Don't worry; it is your ring, not his. It won't harm you."

She did as he asked and Venger moaned, stirring slightly.

"I think he's waking up!" she exclaimed.

He shook his head. "Not a chance; he'll be out for many hours yet. He's simply reacting to the fact that the ring is finally off his finger. Actually, I surprised that he didn't ask you to remove it before now."

She felt her heart sink. "I told him that it once it found the person it was meant for that no one else could take it," she breathed. "He was able to take it from me so he probably just thought that he was stuck with it." Then something dawned on her. "Hey! You said it was really my ring. If it was meant to be mine, then why did it let him take it to begin with?"

Presto shook his head. "I promise I'll explain it to you later after I have all my facts gathered and can make you an accurate answer. Right now I need for you to do something else; something that may or may not prove difficult."

"OK."

"First place the ring on the ring finger of your left hand."

She gave him a suspicious look, but did as she was told.

"Good, now hold your ring with your right hand." Once she had her right hand wrapped around the ring, he continued, "I want you to picture the Ring of the Mind; do you remember what it looked like?"

"How could I forget?"

"OK, Sheila. Think about that ring and summon it to you."

"What?"

"Just think about it being here or imagine that you are pulling on a string that is tied to it. Go on; you can do it!"

She did as he suggested, closing her eyes and picturing herself reeling in the ring. A few seconds later, she was startled by a popping sound and a sudden feeling of pressure in the hand holding on to her ring. When she opened her eyes and unwrapped her hand, she gasped, "Oh my God..."

The Ring of the Mind, not seen since the day she'd used it to bind Venger so many years gone by, was now on her finger beside the Ring of the Heart.

She looked up at Presto, expecting him to be as thrilled as she, but was suddenly brought back to earth by the sad look he gave her.

"What's wrong?" she asked, dreading more bad new on day that had turned so bad so quickly.

He sighed. "Nothing that we can really change, Sheila. Now, give me the Ring of the Mind."

She slipped it from her finger and handed it to him.

Clutching it in his hand, he held his fist to his forehead and spoke a word of power. A light shone from his hand and bathed his face as his expression changed to one of understanding, admiration and fear.

When the light faded, he handed the ring back to her and fixed her with a serious look. "May I ask you a very important question?"

"You can ask me anything!"

He nodded. "What would you be willing to give to save this creature?" He indicated Venger.

"Huh?"

"If his life were at stake, or his soul, how much would you risk for him? Be careful what you answer, for you will live with it the rest of you life."

"I wouldn't kill anyone for him..." she stammered.

"What if the life we spoke of was yours? What would you risk for him?" he pressed.

She looked down at the unconscious mage's face and stroked his cheek tenderly. "When we entered this room and I found him... at that moment I would have given anything to save him; even my life," she answered.

"And now; would you die for him even now?"

"Yes. I know I can't explain it to you and I know you think I'm crazy to say such a thing about him of all people, but..."

Presto held up his hand. "You don't need to explain to me," he whispered. "I already know more than you know." He pointed at her hand. "Put the ring on his matching finger," he said.

Holding her breath, she slipped it on Venger's finger and saw it size itself to fit him.

"This is Venger's ring," Presto explained. "And now there is only one thing I need do to undo this twisted mess..."

As she watched, he began to chant and she realized soon enough that he was casting a spell; a powerful one. Venger had been right about him; Presto was a natural mage and a powerful one already.

With the last words of the spell hanging in the air, Presto gestured at he finger and Venger's, then spoke one last word.

The two rings began to glow as a warmth she'd never known before rose up inside her. Then there was a clap like thunder and Venger cried out.

Once more all was silent.

She stared at Presto. "What did you just do?"

He shrugged, "We will know soon enough, Sheila. Now why don't you have that shadow demon summon a few Orcs to take him to his chambers so that I can get him cleaned up and in bed?"

"We'll have a few servants help us move him; he would never forgive me if I let the Orcs see him like this!" she replied.

At his nod, she stood up and ran for the door.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later Venger was back on his bed and the servants; those who could be trusted to keep their mouths closed, were dismissed. 

Presto was fearless when it came to invading Venger's privacy and poked about all his wardrobes and dressers until he returned with a long nightshirt. At her raised eyebrow he shrugged. "Well if you want to go ahead and leave, I'll get him cleaned up and in bed," he said, trying to sound matter-of-fact about it.

She almost laughed; the visual image of him trying to get two wings, each thirteen feet in length through the slits in the back of the nightshirt was ridiculous.

"Actually; I'll take care of him," she said. "He would hate it if he found out you did it!"

"Uh, you don't think he'd be more upset about you seeing him in the buff?" the magician countered.

"I wasn't planning on removing his pants," she said. "I've seen him only in those before. I'll just strip off the rest and clean him, then you can come in and help me get him under the covers, if I need you to, OK?"

"Alright. Where should I wait?"

She walked past him and lifted aside the tapestry to reveal the open door to her chamber. She'd unlocked it and come through while looking for him that very morning. "You can wait in my room."

He looked at her strangely, but then handed her the nightshirt and went on through. She dropped the hanging behind him.

Returning to the bed, she knelt on it next to him and smoothed back his hair as she looked at him. "How did this happen?" she whispered. "How did I come to care so much about someone like you?" She would have been disappointed if she'd really been expected an answer, for he remained profoundly unconscious.

With a sigh, she went about her self-appointed tasks. Fetching a basin and washcloth from his bathing room, then bringing a pitcher of water, she set them on the end table and proceeded to undress him.

It was slow going due to his weight, for he was far heavier than she could have imagined. Just how did he manage to fly? Still, by carefully rolling him on one side and then the other, she did somehow figure out how to get his wings out of the tunic. It wasn't all that difficult once she discovered that the back was held closed with eye hooks beneath each wing opening. She could simply undo them, slide the garment right off his wings and then lift it up and over his head; after working his arms through. After that, she removed his boots and his socks, then sat back for a moment to admire him while she caught her breath.

Fiend or not, he was spectacularly put together. As a child she'd often wondered why he wore a skirt. Now, as an adult she wondered in an amused way if he'd worn one to disguise his incredible build. Maybe he thought it made him appear too human, she wondered, while disguising his form made him seem far more sinister and alien.

Forcing herself to move, she wet the wash cloth and rung it out, then began cleansing the fatal potion and the vomit off of him. She started with his face, then his neck and then his chest and arms. For good measure she even wiped down his abdomen and then blushing furiously, decided he was clean enough for the moment.

With a sigh, she set about pulling the bed coverings out from beneath him and then tucking him into the bed.

Finally, dead tired, she called out to Presto, who appeared looking pretty groggy himself.

"You look as tired as I feel," she said.

"I've been riding for days and I've hardly slept during that time. Those spells took a lot out of me as well," he explained.

"I'll see about getting you settled..."

"No need, Sheila," he replied. "I'll stay in here with him to make certain he's going to be alright. That huge chair and footrest in the corner will make a comfortable enough bed for me."

When she nodded, he handed her a strange looking wafer. "Here," he said. "I can see that you're dead on your feet as well. This is a little something I make up to help people sleep. Chew it up and get some rest. I'll call you when he awakens."

She took the medicine from him. "Thanks Presto; there's really nothing I can do that would ever be enough to thank you for what you've done."

Again he gave her a sad look. "I hope you still feel the same tomorrow."

"What do you mean?"

"Never mind. Get some rest, OK?"

"Good-night, Presto," she whispered as she hugged him.

He gave her a quick peck on the cheek. "Good night beautiful."

With a smile and finally feeling a great weight lift from her shoulders, she retired, locking the door behind her.

* * *

An hour later, so exhausted by the horrors of that morning and overtired that she couldn't seem to actually sleep, Sheila knuckled under and ate the wafer that Presto had given her. It worked quickly and within a few minutes of climbing back into bed, she drifted off to sleep. 

She soon found herself atop the castle tower, dressed in a gown of palest rose, embellished with white lace and burgundy velvet. The night was cool, but she was excited, for her betrothed was on his way home to her after a most dangerous, seven month long campaign.

The tower was the best place to search for signs of him so as not to miss his arrival. She'd so feared for his life, that her heart had nearly burst with joy when she'd received his message that he was alive and on his way home. She'd spent each evening after that on the tower watching for him.

And this night there had finally been a sign that he and his honor guard were about to crest the rise in the road; a dust plume; thrown up by fast moving horses.

As she watched, he appeared, riding his white horse and leading at least two dozen men holding aloft his banners.

With a cry of joy, she turned and ran down the tower steps so that she could be at the front gates when he arrived.

Ten minutes later, he pulled up in front of her and his gaze never leaving hers, he removed his golden helm, handed it to a stable hand and then dismounted. For a brief moment he stood before her; tall and fair of skin, with strikingly contrasting black hair, deep blue eyes, arched brows and full lips. A strong jaw line and powerful warrior's build completed the description of the Realm's greatest knight.

Then he lifted his arms to her and she was in them in a flash. He lifted her to her toes and held her tightly, ravishing her lips in front of everyone. Heartfelt words were exchanged and then he was giving his men some final instructions and leading her into the castle. A spell quickly took them to her chambers, where he wooed her passionately.

She was a virgin still, for he'd asked for her hand only days before leaving and been granted her father's blessing and although she lived in his castle now, it was an unspoken point of family honor that she remain pure until her wedding day.

That did not mean that she had to remain untouched… or so her love had argued. He ravished her with his mouth and hands, stripping her of all reason before carrying her to the bed. Placing her down in the center, he stripped off his tunic and then went to work removing her clothing as he continued his distractions.

When the last of her clothes were in danger of departing, she finally protested, albeit weakly, "My lord; we are not yet wed!"

He'd chuckled then in his deep timbre. "My beauty, dreams of you are what kept me alive and returned me thus to your arms. I'll not leave you this night, nor the next, nor those that follow."

"But, love; we are not wed!" She reiterated quickly as he sat up and shed his breeches. "My family…"

He stopped her mouth with a kiss, and then stroked her cheek. "We will be wed soon enough. Who would be the wiser? None know of this doorway between our chambers save my most trusted servants. I am yours even as you are mine." Here he held up her left hand, exposing her ruby-encrusted ring and then showed her his own left hand where its sapphire encrusted mate resided. "Now, would you have me leave?"

She smiled and pulled him to her. "I cannot…"

* * *

Sheila tossed and turned in her sleep as the pleasant dream suddenly gave way to another. 

Days passed by in a joyful blur and she'd never felt so loved. For the first time she could recall, her lover stayed by her side for many days, ignoring the usual summons for his help that poured in day after day.

It was not like him to leave off his obsessive fight against evil, but she could not complain. Each night she would unlock the door between their rooms and he would come to her, loving her until they were both exhausted. Then he would spend the entire night beside her rather than retreating to his own bed.

One morning, well after daybreak, he had to ride from the castle to see to his affairs, yet he took his leave with some reluctance. As she kissed him good-bye outside the castle gate, she noticed that he did not look well, despite his assurances to the contrary.

"It is nothing," he reassured her. "Only the lingering effects of my latest battle. I shall be well again soon enough."

That is a strange thing for him to have said, she thought and voiced her concern out loud by asking, "What happened during your battles that still affects you?"

He'd shook his head and smiled. "You worry too much, pet. It is nothing that will prove to be of import to us." He kissed her deeply. "I must be off now, but I shall return by nightfall."

Yet, he did not return by nightfall, nor during the night and by the time he did return, she was beside herself with fear for him; for it had been many days since his departure.

She awoke from exhausted slumber to find him entering her bedroom in the dead of night, all but hidden by the darkness, for her last candle had burned down hours before.

Upon recognizing who it was, she flew from her bed and threw her arms about him, crying with relief. "What happened? My love; are you well? I was so worried you'd been waylaid and killed!"

He held her tightly. "You know such a thing is not possible," he replied, his voice sounding much deeper pitched than usual.

Before she could question him further or wonder if he had caught a cold, he kissed her hungrily, holding her to him as though afraid to turn her free. He quickly stripped her of her shift as the moonlight lit him well enough for her to make out his features. She could not quite put a finger on anything, but he seemed somewhat… different.

Then she found herself upon her bed with him coming down heavily atop her. He was still dressed in his breeches, tunic and boots and she was shocked when he reached down to free himself.

"No… wait…" she protested, but he plundered her mouth, leaving her unable to do more than make unintelligible noise.

Then he was truly on her, too strong and too heavy for her to fight. She pushed at him, but he barely seemed to feel it or even know that she was fighting him.

Parting her legs, he growled as he entered her and pressed onward.

She bucked and squirmed beneath him, holding her breath as pain filled her; something was very wrong! He was well build, but now it felt as though he was about to rip her apart! She tried to scream, as tears of pain and terror ran down her face, but he covered her mouth, pushing onward until she could only quiver beneath him. Thankfully, he stopped before she burst and began stroking in and out of her instead, pausing during his rut only long enough to bite her on her breast and her neck a time or two as she began to truly cry hysterically.

Thankfully it was quickly over as moments later he bellowed loudly and spilled himself inside her.

As he collapsed atop her, she again began fighting, pushing at him and squirming as her panic escalated beyond reason. She was nearly incoherent, the one thought in her mind escape. Dimly she became aware of him realizing something was dreadfully wrong and with a curse he pulled up his breeches and quickly cast a spell.

A flash lit the room briefly and she felt herself go limp, her body no longer under her control, although she found that she could still sob and move her head. He sat up on the bed and gathered her close, rocking her in his arms as he expressed his remorse.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize… I didn't know what I was doing!" he said, his voice breaking. "Please don't cry. Please don't!"

She eventually managed to catch her breath after long minutes ticked by and it dawned on her that she would not accomplish anything until she could compose herself enough to reason with him.

It didn't take long for her to understand that he was now the one in a state of panic. She didn't know what had happened to him, but at this point she believed him when he said he didn't understand it either.

"Undo the spell," she hiccupped, trying to keep her voice calm. "Let me up now."

"Promise me that you'll let me stay; promise me that you'll listen to me even if you won't forgive me," he pleaded.

"I cannot promise." Then she added reasonably, "Let me go now or it will be worse."

He barely waved a hand over her and she was free.

Gingerly she sat up, groaning in pain, while even in the darkened room she could see him withdraw and cringe.

He never cringed!

"Light the candles," she pleaded. When he hesitated she made it a demand. "Light them or get out!"

He moved to obey her, but kept his face averted.

As the light level in the room grew, she became aware of two very disturbing things; that there was blood smeared all over her and the sheets and worse yet, that her betrothed had changed dramatically since last she'd seen him!

"The Lord protect us!" she exclaimed, making a sign against evil in the air between them. He'd grown much taller and larger, his tunic and breeches barely fitting him, his hair, which had been as long as his shoulders now hung past his waist and worse of all; his skin had turned a blue-gray color and his fingernails were like long red claws.

Realizing that the charade was over, he turned to face her and she scrambled off the bed, putting several more feet between them.

His eyes had turned from their normal blue to a purple color, his full lips had shriveled and become thin, while sharp, pointed teeth protruded from them. Looking down at herself, she saw bite marks on her that were still oozing blood, the work of those wicked fangs. Worse yet, his nose looked as though it was also shriveling away and the skin beneath his eyes had turned a sickening black color.

"You... you..." she stammered.

"I am cursed," he rumbled sadly, his voice now deeper than any she'd ever heard.

"How? When?" she moaned, still backing away, yet unable to take her eyes off him.

"Please don't stare at me in such a way..." he groaned, turning his back to her. "It was the evil one I rode forth to vanquish; he was stronger than anything I've ever faced or even dreamed of. There is no defeating him and now... he is my master."

She shook her head, denying the truth. It just could not be; they were not fated to end in this way!

"I have been gone from you these past nights searching for a way to undo this curse, but all has failed! I am still changing and as you've seen, to my eternal shame, there are times when I lose even myself." His shoulders hunched, he covered his eyes with a hand.

"Is there nothing that can be done?" she asked.

He nodded. "There is a slim hope; when you are near me, I soon regain control of myself. If you can only forgive me, stay by my side and continue to love me, I may yet find a way to free myself"

Slowly she walked up behind him and slipped her arms around his waist. Only then did he relax, letting out a deep sigh and turning in her arms to gathered her close.

"I forgive you because I believe that you truly did not know what it was you were doing. I still love you," she confessed. "I think I always will. So long as you can remain yourself, I will stay and even go through with the wedding as planned."

He froze. "That is the one thing I can no longer do, my love. I cannot marry you... when I am this! For the sake of the Realm, none must know that I have fallen to him; for now I must hide away, but never doubt that I still want you. Remain mine and help me win this fight."

Her heart twisted painfully within her. "Not marry? I shall become a disgrace to my family! What if there is a child; what then? Would you have them called a bastard? Would you bar them and myself from any support should you fall?"

He held her even more tightly. "I cannot marry you," he replied. "I would if it were possible."

Then he led her to the bed and cast a spell, replacing the bloodied sheets with fresh, clean ones. "We cannot have the staff talking," he murmured as he did so.

"You do this too easily now," she commented, frightened by his easy use of such complicated magic.

"A side effect of... my curse," he breathed.

"Then perhaps you should not use magic," she replied.

He gave her an odd look. "I hardly think it matters. Now come, let us sleep. No one knows I have returned and in the morning we must make our plans."

She hesitated, uncertain of what might happen to her as she slept, but he caressed her hair and cupped her face, then made her look up at him.

"You have nothing to fear from me just so long as you remain in close proximity. It is only when we are separated by distance that I seem to lose myself." Seeing that she still was fearful, he sighed and added, "I will not touch you against your will. So long as you remain close, I swear there will be no repeat of what occurred earlier."

"That is for the best, most especially since you have withdrawn your offer of marriage for now I am no longer your betrothed," she said bitterly, climbing into the bed.

His face was filled with grief when he moved to put out the candles, and it was only as he was climbing into the bed that she realized he could easily have used magic to douse them, yet had not.

* * *

Sheila sat up in bed with a large gasp, her heart racing with fear as she realized that she was witnessing Venger's transformation first hand. My God; she'd slept with him in her dream; with Venger! She would have climbed out of the bed and gone in search of Presto, but her limbs felt like lead and she already felt herself slipping back into sleep...

* * *

In the morning things were much worse. 

She arose and in the light of day was able to see that Natharius had sprouted small, gray wings from his back. Scrambling out of bed, she quickly took care of her morning toiletries, not wishing to awaken the cursed man who'd once been her intended.

When she returned, it was to find him sitting up in the bed looking for her. "Come here!" he commanded.

She shook her head, her knees shaking beneath her from fear.

With a growl, he launched himself from the bed and in two long steps had her by the throat. "When I tell you to do something, you shall do it; is that understood?" he roared, squeezing her neck until she began to black out.

"Natharius..." she choked before everything went black.

* * *

"Presto! What have you done? What have you done!". 

Presto, who'd been fast asleep in the great chair that he'd pulled close to the bed and appropriated as a cot, sat bolt upright and made a grab for his staff, which leaned against the chair before seeing it was Sheila and relaxing somewhat.

She'd come in through the door he'd found hidden beneath the tapestry, which he now guessed led directly to her bedroom.

Sighing, he put his glasses on and sat up straight. He'd known that sooner or later she would feel the effects of the spell he'd cast, but he had hoped for a longer time in which to recover and think how he was going to explain it to her.

"Sheila," he finally said. "Come over and sit down on the foot rest and I'll explain."

She shook her head and stared not at him, but at the sleeping mage, her eyes wide and tearful.

He tried a different tact. "You know who you are, don't you?"

She nodded, at the same time shaking in her shoes. "I was her; Suhailah."

Pesto nodded and stood, only just then thankful that he'd fallen asleep with his false leg still on. "I've read books, ancient tomes that contain his story. They're notoriously hard to find because he tried to have them all destroyed and each has inconsistencies in the story, or contains only part of it, making the truth hard to piece together." He moved closer to her before continuing, "But... you know what happened to Suhailah and Venger, don't you? The spell that tied your souls and minds through the rings has caused you to remember, hasn't it?"

"Yes..." she whispered, still staring at the man in the bed, even as she started backing away and moving closer to Presto. "He changed. He left a knight and returned a fiend..."

"What happened; what did he want of you and what did you do then?"

She began to cry. "I don't know... I don't know..." Then she suddenly whirled and looked him full in the eye. "What did you do, Presto? What?"

He grasped her hand and brought it up, displaying the Ring of the Heart. "Look at Venger's hand," he said. "and tell me what you see."

She couldn't help but do so. "The Ring of the Mind," she breathed. "My dream..."

"What did you dream?" he asked.

"We, Suhailah and he exchanged them with a promise to marry," she said, her thoughts seemingly far away. "He was showing them to me in the dream almost as you are now..."

"Then you've confirmed what I suspected; they are a matched set, Sheila," he sighed, indicating her ring and then dropping her hand. "One Blue, One Red, each with a different central design, but otherwise alike. "The day you set Kareena free, you were able to bind him with his own ring, because the two are joined and both of you through them."

Her eyes grew huge. "I commanded the rings and through them, Venger? She asked. "How could someone as powerful as he be controlled by two rings?"

He sighed. "In the alchemy chamber, I scried his ring. Venger himself gave them that power over him, but in so doing, he lost his memory of what he did and why. "Having glimpsed this, I kinda guessed what it would take to reverse the spells he placed on them..."

Now that the time had come to tell her what he'd done, he found it very hard to continue. He shook his head and tried, "Sheila, you have to understand that I had no choice but to do what I thought best. Everything depends upon the errors of the past being rectified."

Her expression became frightened. "What did you do?" she asked yet again, this time grasping his tunic. "Tell me!"

He couldn't meet her eyes and looked towards Venger instead. "Invoking the rings, as he had intended, I bound your minds last night, as well as your souls. It turns out I'd guessed correctly; Venger's soul and memories were restored to him the moment I the two of you."

With a choking sound, Sheila stared at him. "Married? I am married to..." She fainted and he was barely able to catch her before she crumbled to the floor. "Sheila? Sheila?" He called her name as he patted her cheek. He was about to place her on the chair and get his smelling salts when he heard a cough and a deep voice spoke from the bed.

"Bring her to me, magician..."

A glance showed him that Venger was awake and propping himself up on unsteady arms. At his hesitation, the fiendish mage's red eyes glinted dangerously.

"Do not make me come to you," he hissed.

"And do not think to threaten me," Presto countered. "In your current state I could easily win anything you try to start!"

As he spoke, Presto moved forward, carrying Sheila to the bed; after all, for better or worse, she was now Venger's wife. Although the mage glared dangerously at him, Presto was amazed at how gently he took Sheila and pulled her against him. Then, seemingly forgetting that Presto was even there, he stroked Sheila's hair back from her face and tenderly kissed her forehead. "It is you," he whispered. "How I had hoped that I was right; that you had returned to me..." As he cupped her face, he noted the Ring of the Mind upon his finger and quickly groping for her hand, found the Ring of the Heart on her matching finger.

A moments confusion crossed his face as he froze and looked inward.

"You feel it, don't you?" Presto asked, immediately drawing Venger's gaze.

This time they were filled with amazement and even grudging admiration. "You did this?" he asked.

He nodded. "Right down to the spell of binding."

"How did you know?"

"I surmised that the rings were linked in some way once I recalled that Sheila had used them to temporarily banish you. Her ability to do so was remarkable in and of itself, but the fact that her use of the rings and your banishment ended up freeing Kareena of her evil... streak, got me thinking. Once I'd revived you, I asked Sheila to try to summon the Ring of the Mind and her ability to do so pretty much confirmed my suspicions. It was a simple matter to hold your ring and make it reveal its nature to me."

"And you followed through with my original intentions," Venger said, his expression one of shock and confusion.

Presto smiled, "Once more, a kindness done, not for you but for someone else."

"I doubt she will thank you for it," he breathed, holding Sheila closer.

"I did it for the Realm, Venger," he replied. "Now you've got your second chance, as does she. I suggest you think twice before wasting it."

"Does she know? Did she agree to it?"" the mage asked, looking down at the woman in his arms, his voice sorrowful.

"I never gave her the choice of marrying you. She didn't know what I did, but since then she has been remembering the past and now knows the truth. I only just informed her. It was too much for her; the truth is what made her faint."

He bowed his head for a time, then again met Presto's eyes. "I owe you a greater debt than I can ever repay," he breathed. "But having accessed the Ring of the Mind, you are aware of what lies ahead. Would you be willing to stand by my side as my apprentice and ally?"

"A true teacher is something I have long sought," he replied. "and you will have my support in any endeavor against... him."

The fiendish one stared at him. "You will make a worthy apprentice, but what exactly is it you expect me to teach you? You've no stomach for the dark arts," he spat. "Yet, you will need to learn them."

"You were once skilled in the ways of healing and white magic. I will learn what you feel I must, just so long as you also teach me these."

"Bah! Such spells cost me much these days and are difficult at best."

Presto smiled at him. "But you can still do them; better yet, you can teach them. Besides, it is the kind of magic she would rather have you pursue, isn't it?"

One corner of Venger's mouth curved upwards in a humorless smile. He knew he'd been trumped. "Very well, apprentice, but we shall have to take great care that none but us know I teach you such things."

Presto bowed slightly. "Yes, Master," he said, showing deference to his new mentor."

Venger showed his pointy teeth in what passed as a grin, then bellowed, "Shadow Demon!"

The shadow demon appeared instantly, now able to enter the room despite the banishment spell. Presto was impressed by the ancient mage's ability to counter his magic so easily, even in his current weakened state.

Venger instructed his servant, "See to it that Sheila's former chambers are prepared for my new apprentice's comfort."

"Yes, Master!"

The fiend then turned back to Presto. "You are to rest and recover, for I can see that the dust of a long journey still clings to you. Once I've recovered sufficiently, we shall begin your lessons."

"This way, apprentice," the demon urged.

He followed him through the doorway, which vanished and became stone wall once they'd passed through from the room.

Venger looked down at the woman in his arms and reached up to dash away the tears that had begun to track down his face. That he could cry once more was proof that he was himself again. But although he'd been completely restored and was Natharius once more, so many lifetimes of evil could not be completely undone. He was still Venger as well, perhaps more so than Natharius. He would retain his darker characteristics along with the fiendish form his master had given him.

Still, it was a small price to pay considering that both his soul and his memories of how this had come to pass had been returned to him.

Now he understood clearly why it was that he'd been instantly drawn to the thief when he'd seen her on the steps of the Citadel of Shadow and why he'd been so... human when in her company.

She'd carried his soul with her; trapped within the Ring of the Heart, where he'd placed it before riding out to do battle with the evil one that day so many lifetimes ago. Once the ring had, against all odds, returned to the finger of it's original owner, his soul had reawakened. When he was in her presence, it became a part of him once more, fed to him through her, yet still bound to her and the ring. Thus he could not stay away from her, but was continuously drawn to her side.

And hosting his soul, she could not help but feel an immediate attachment to him, despite who and what he was, for a part of him was now traveling with her wherever she ventured.

Yet, he'd been completely unaware of any of this, for he'd had to wipe his own memory of the act, less the evil one read it in his mind as he rode out to fight him. His memories, he trapped within the Heart of the Mind. Both soul and memory meant to be locked away and kept safe from the evil one.

He'd meant them to be returned to him if he survived the battle. All it required was that he and his true love be properly joined, as planned.

It should have happened long since. It should have happened within weeks of his return to her, all those lifetimes ago. Little did he know that his fiendish self would exhibit an aversion to marrying. He'd been too proud; insisting that they wait until such time that he was restored... or perhaps it had been the cruel streak that his master's influence brought out in him.

Either way, it had quickly spelled disaster!

Suhailah had fallen into the deepest despair over his bipolar behavior, for if they parted company for even a few hours, when next they met he was capable of doing unspeakable things to her before the ring's influence could restore him to his usual temperament. Over the course of several years, she begged him to release her, but of course, he could not bear such a thing... and so she'd found another way out.

With a sob, he kissed Sheila's cheek, then cast a spell to make her sleep. It would do her much good and him as well, for he too could now rest and with her in his arms, until the time came to explain it all to her.

Once he'd taken the Ring of the Heart from her and placed it on his own hand, his own soul had begun to torment him; replaying every horrible thing he'd ever done. It was guilt, projected ten-fold at him unless Sheila were present to calm it. That guilt, the nightmares, the waking visions... had driven him to very brink of death.

He was stunned to not only find himself alive, but restored and with his true love by his side once more.

Venger tucked her beneath the covers and pulled her against him as he also lay down. Then he held her and cried; shedding tears of frustration, thanks and fear for what soon lay ahead.

There would be no time to cry then.

Next up: **Acceptance.**


	7. Acceptance

**Twist of Fate**  
A Dungeons & Dragons story by Tina Price. Eleven years have passed and things have not fared well in the Realm. The Children have long since disbanded, after having abandoned Dungeon Master and his manipulations. During the years that followed, good has slowly been consumed by evil...

**Disclaimer: ** Venger, Sheila and all characters therein are the property of the Walt Disney Company.

* * *

**Acceptance.**

She felt warm and protected as she snuggled down deeper beneath the covers, sighing contentedly. Then she encountered something with her foot; it felt like a leg, definitely a leg. With a start she felt an arm come around her and pull her back against a long, sturdy form. She inhaled and began to tense up, but then she felt a warm breath on her ear and a nuzzle, followed by lips kissing a trail down the side of her neck.

With a sigh, she relaxed and turned in her lover's arms, to be greeted by sleepy blue eyes and a lopsided grin.

"Good morning," she whispered, wrapping her arms around him in turn.

He kissed her passionately, only breaking off when they were both breathless. "It is now," he agreed.

Sheila laughed and awoke to find sleepy crimson eyes staring back at her. She was wrapped in Venger's arms and he had his left wing snaked around her under the covers as well.

"Good morning," he rumbled.

She froze, trying to remember how she'd ended up in his bed. She found herself confused, then upset, as memories of her last conversation with Presto returned, yet despite that, she was glad; very glad that Venger was alive and apparently none the worse for wear.

She squinted at him. "Aren't you supposed to be dead?"

One of his fine, arched eyebrows quirked upward. "Close enough; it turns out that I'm married!" he exclaimed.

His response made her chuckle at the same time that it brought tears to her eyes and she reached up to dash them away, angry that he should see just how much she really cared.

"Is it really morning?" She sniffed, changing the subject. She'd looked around and noted that the room was still lit only by a single torch.

"Very early in the morning," he answered, then became serious. "Sheila... I know that you're distraught about being duped into marriage; you have a right to be, but I hope you understand that you've saved my life and so much more... "

"You're welcome," she managed to say, finding that it was becoming harder not to cry.

He took one of her hands and brought it to his mouth, then kissed it. "I, on the other hand, cannot say that I regret being bound to you. I've waited in limbo for over a thousand years, secretly hoping that you would return to me. I am all amazement that you did, and that you saved me. Trust in me; I'm not about to make the same mistakes I made before."

That did it; she started bawling like a baby as he rocked her gently and murmured comfort in her ear. "I'm sorry..." she finally managed to sob brokenly. "But this has been almost too much and it all happened so fast!"

"Shhhh..." he quieted her. "You need say no more."

"But I do!" she protested with a hiccup, lifting her head so she could look at him. "I've even been having dreams; about our lives... before..."

He tensed. "Before or after I changed?"

"Both!"

Venger grew even paler than normal. "There is nothing I can say to excuse the way I treated you. How I wish I did not retain my memories of those days; they torment me! Only remember that I had no soul and that I was cursed. I could not help but act like a fiend; I had little will and was the puppet of he whose name is not for your ears."

"I know," she whispered. "But knowing still doesn't make it any easier to come to terms with." She sighed and freed the hand he still held near his mouth. "Still, I am so very grateful to Presto for saving your life, regardless of what he had to do in order to accomplish it. Because of what we once were to one another, I cannot help but care, yet..."

"Sheila?" he prompted, when she didn't continue.

She searched his eyes. "You frighten me. You truly scare me. When you are near, I keep remembering how you hurt me back then."

"But I did not frighten you when I was Nate?" he asked.

"No."

"Then it is my form that frightens you, for inside I am still that man you came to care for," he said, hoisting himself up on an elbow and searching her eyes. "The only cure for it is trust and new memories to keep the old at bay."

Before she could react, he leaned over and kissed her, cupping her head with a hand and gently teasing her lips with his own. He moved very slowly, very patiently and gave her the opportunity to explore him as well; his lips, his sharp teeth, his smell...

After long minutes of such teasing affection on his part, she couldn't help but melt against him, her fears vaporized and replaced with a growing passion.

He sighed when he felt the change in her and pressed her closer against him as his kiss became more demanding.

When he finally lifted his head away, they were both flushed and breathless.

"This is me," he rumbled, pressing her hand over his heart, then pressing his body against hers so that she could feel his arousal. "And this is the form I must take. Try to remember that it is just me in here." He kissed her nose, making her wrinkle it up and then continued, "You are my wife and henceforth you will share my bed and my living spaces, but I will not claim you with this form unless you beg me to do so." He smiled, showing his many sharp teeth and added, "And I must warn you that am too old and have seen too much to be easily impressed or won by one whose heart is lukewarm, regardless of her beauty. You will have to want me as your husband and work at convincing me that it is so, regardless of the form I wear."

She stared at him. "Are you serious?"

He nodded. "Very."

In truth, her fear had melted away with his kisses; they alone had been enough to convince her that she had nothing to fear from the fiend who'd been haunting her dreams. And, fiend or man, Venger always kept his word, so his promise meant that she never need fear him, unless of course, he reverted back...

"So, you really are Natharius?" she asked suddenly.

"I am he who once was Natharius, but a part of me will always be Venger as well. I have lived too many years in darkness to ever fully return to the light," he explained. "And you must publicly address me as Venger, although as my wife you need never use honorific terms. We must take care that my master does not learn of my freedom and therefore I must still represent an evil presence in the Realm. If the master should discover the truth and arrive before I am ready..."

She felt her fear returning. "He can change you back, can't he? He can take your soul now that you have it back and make you his again."

He shook his head. "No, my pretty little thief; this time, unlike the last, when we meet in battle, I will have my soul."

"The worst he can do is kill me."

* * *

It was just before dawn when Presto was startled awake by the sound of someone calling out his name. 

Sitting up abruptly, he could just make out two glowing eyes in the darkness and fell off the bed in his mad scramble to get away from them.

It was only as the floor finished waking him up that he realized two things; first, that the eyes belonged to Venger's shadow demon and secondly that he was heaped on the floor because he wasn't wearing his prosthetic leg.

"Apprentice; are you well?" came the demon's sibilant voice.

"What do you want?" he asked gruffly, ignoring its question.

"The master has asked me to extend an invitation to breakfast on his balcony."

Standing, he retrieved his glasses from the bedside table. "You woke me up in the dead of night to invite me to breakfast?" he asked.

"But, it is nearly dawn and they are eating now," came the demon's explanation.

He thought it over. "Tell them I'll be right there."

The shadow demon fizzed out.

Hobbling to the chair, Presto began putting on his leg. He'd rather sleep and recover from his long journey, but it was important that he stay on top of things and he therefore could not afford to miss an invitation to dine.

Besides, his master was Venger; it might not have been an invitation so much as a politely phrased command!

He staggered into the bathing room to try to make himself presentable; fortunately he'd bathed and washed his hair before tumbling into bed. He took time to scrub his teeth and comb his hair before dressing. The castle servants had brought him new robes, all of them black and he had little choice but to wear one now as his filthy clothing had been taken away.

Within five minutes of being awakened, he deemed himself presentable and exited the room to make the trip down the hallway to Venger's chambers. Once there, he let himself in and quickly joined his master and Sheila on the balcony.

He had to admit that he'd been worried about his friend of old and he was relieved to see her sitting at the table, looking relaxed. As for Venger; he seemed greatly changed! The oppressive air of dread that had always seemed to accompany his appearance was gone and the fiend actually wasn't for once, frowning. In fact, he seemed both energetic and in a good humor, immediately greeting him and gesturing towards a chair.

The table was laid out with an incredible breakfast, reminding Presto suddenly that he'd been too tired the night before to do more than nibble at the cold platter he'd been brought before retiring. His stomach rumbled loudly, causing Sheila to laugh and pass him a tray full of scrambled eggs.

"Scrambled?" he asked, helping himself and passing the dish along.

"I showed the kitchen staff how to make them shortly after arriving here," she explained.

"Indeed, everyone has developed a taste for them as well as hash browns," Venger replied, as he loaded up his own plate.

Presto tasted the hash browns and had to give Sheila a nod of approval. Although potatoes did not exist in this world, she had apparently found a very close substitute. It was wonderful and he found it comforting to such eat things that reminded him of home.

They all ate in silence for a time before Venger spoke, "I thought you might be curious to see how Sheila was doing. I also surmised that you'd be very hungry and so I hope you'll understand why it was that I had you awakened."

At Presto's nod, he continued. "We will conduct your first lesson this morning at ten in my reflection room. You'll find that it's located near the top of the front castle turret."

"I'll be there, master," he replied and then added. "May I ask you something?"

At Venger's nod, he continued, "Why must I wear black robes? I understand that I must learn what you choose to teach, but I am no dark mage."

"It is all about keeping up perceptions," the wizard replied. "No one must guess that I am free and my acceptance and training of a good magician would be a giveaway."

Presto nodded and then turned to Sheila. "I hope that you can forgive me for not giving you a choice..."

She held up a hand, stopping him. "You did what had to be done. And in the end, I believe that all will turn out for the better."

Venger looked at her curiously as she said so and Presto could see his eyes narrow as he pondered her words. He couldn't even begin to comprehend what life must have been like for the cursed mage and now, for him to have regained both his soul and his love..."

He cleared his throat. "Master? How is it that you came to place your soul within the Ring of the Heart?"

Venger put down his fork and pushed back his chair so that he could lean back. His fingers tapped sharply on the arm, as he seemed to look inward. Finally he looked at both of them in turn and sighed. "It was my father who suggested that I safeguard my soul, just as it was his suggestion as how best to do so. I was clearly duped, for I now believe that had I my soul, I never would have been cursed."

"But you'd be dead instead!" Sheila protested. "So in the end he saved your life!"

"Only to condemn me to a millennium of living death," he protested.

"Sheesh! What kind of father would do something like that?" Presto asked, suddenly angry all over again with the Dungeon Master.

"A father who knew it was neither the time nor place for his son to win the fight," came a voice from behind them.

Turning, they were all shocked to see Dungeon Master himself standing in the doorway.

Venger immediately came to his feet, his face darkening with anger. "You are brave to show your face before us, old man!" he snarled, instantly reminding them all that he was still, when all was said and done, a fiend.

"I beg your pardon for disturbing you," the gnomish little man apologized, "However, I did wish to see you, my son and explain myself."

To Presto's surprise, the larger mage managed to control his temper, although he crossed his arms over his chest and sneered down at his father. "Not that there is any way you could possibly justify your actions, but if it makes you feel any better, then be my guest."

Dungeon Master looked at each of them in turn, but Venger quickly snapped, "You may say what you need to say in front of them; after all, you've wronged each of them as well."

"Very well." The most powerful force for good in the Realm hung his head and actually managed to look crushed. "It is not an easy thing being Dungeon Master," he began. "For, the only thing that matters is the Realm and the collective good of all creatures living within it; I am not able to play favorites or lighten the burden of a hard life if others would suffer for it. And so it was with you, Natharius."

"I am Venger; the creature you made and you will address me as such," Presto's master replied. "Continue; I am curious as to why you felt the need to dupe me into servitude to the dark one; an event which was detrimental to many of the Realm's creatures you profess to champion!"

"If I had told you beforehand that your fate was such, would you have still shed your soul and rode forth that day? You who so despise what you are; could you have done so knowing that you would become the very thing you hate and be doomed to remain as such for an unforeseeable length of time? Would you have done so, knowing what it would do to the one you loved most?"

Dungeon Master shook his head as tears beaded up in his tourmaline colored eyes. "I think not! I know you well enough to know that you would still have ridden out that day, but that you would have kept your soul and chosen death instead."

Presto looked back at Venger and saw that Sheila was also awaiting his reply, but the mage seemed temporarily speechless.

"The future is not a clear picture, even for those of us with the ability to foresee it," the little man continued. "It is like a puzzle in which one may properly arrange several pieces, but never all of them. The full picture can only be inferred from what is reconstructed. And I can only take action or give advice based upon what I know absolutely; not upon what might happen."

Dungeon Master walked forward until he stood directly before Venger. "I knew that you would not win that day so very long ago, my son, but I also know that you are destined to lead the final battle against he-whose-name-is-not-for-our-ears. For this to occur, you had to survive your first battle with him. I did what had to be done in order to ensure it, but there hasn't been a day that I have not wept over your fate."

Venger stepped back a pace, then another, but slowly his face hardened, his mouth twisting unpleasantly. "How very comforting to know that it grieved you," he hissed. "But tell me, old man; why is that you never visited your own daughter as she lay dying? You let Kareena fade away without so much as a word to her; without ever telling her you would miss or morn her passing. Was this also a part of your grand scheme?" he sneered.

Dungeon Master turned and headed for the balcony doors, but not before they all saw that he was weeping. "It was," he replied, then disappeared from sight.

An ominous creaking was heard and with a start, Presto realized that Venger was gripping the back of his chair hard enough to break it.

Before he could decide what to do, Sheila had left her seat and moved to stand beside her unlikely husband.

"Let's finish eating," she said, laying a hand on his arm. "We can talk about this later if you'd like."

He let out a breath and folded his wings atop his shoulders as he covered her hand with his own. "As you wish," he rumbled, pulling out her chair for her and seating her before returning to his own seat.

They ate in silence after that. Presto, still famished, ate with relish, making up for time and Sheila picked at her plate, while Venger didn't eat a bite, and only sipped his tea from time to time.

Finally, when Presto's plate was empty, Venger stood, with Presto and Sheila following suit. "I will see you at the appointed time, until then you are free to do as you please. You may go."

With a small bow of respect, he took his leave of his master and made his way back to his chamber, intent upon sleeping a few hours more.

* * *

After Presto was gone and the servants had cleaned off the table and fled their chambers, Venger guided Sheila to the bathing room, which opened into his bedroom. She'd been in it before, upon awakening, to use the very modern toilet he had somehow installed, but this time she was surprised to see that the very large sunken tile pool was filled with steaming water. 

"There's no way the servants filled it that quickly! Did you have something to do with it?" she asked. "Did you use magic?"

He smiled toothily and pointed at an old antique-looking tap on the far side of the pool. "The servants made certain it was filled while we ate."

"The servants always filled the one in my chambers by hand," she commented, then suddenly added, "Wait a minute! You have modern plumbing as well as toilets in your castle; you had to have gotten this from my world!"

He nodded. "I have brought many things through the ether between our worlds, but plumbing has proven to be one of the few things that is both indispensable and safe."

"Huh?"

He sighed. "You should be wondering why, when I can capture the most dangerous of your jets, I would chose to return it to your world rather than keep it to destroy my enemies here."

She remembered Joseph Mueller, the world war II Luftwaffe pilot that Venger had brought through from the past and equipped with a modern day jet. He'd planned on sending the pilot back in time to win the war for Hitler and change her world forever; quite possibly even preventing her and her friends from ever being born.

Venger's words now brought home something that she and her friends had indeed wondered at the time: why hadn't he simply kept the weapon and used it to defeat Tiamat and his enemies? She looked at him now and saw that he was waiting patiently for her.

"I did wonder it, back when that happened, but it never crossed my mind that you would actually be able to cross back and forth between our worlds. You can, though; can't you?" she asked.

"Yes." Then he did something that floored her; he stepped in front of her and lifted her chin with one finger, a sly smile appearing on his face.

Sheila almost burst into tears; it was the same exact thing he'd done all those years ago when she was a gangly child and he'd explained to her how history would be rewritten and her life undone. It was something she'd never forgotten; the huge wizard actually touching her and making her meet his eyes. She'd relived that moment many times in her dreams, first as childish nightmares and then years later part of some very murky, erotic dreams.

"I… I didn't think you would remember doing that," she finally choked out.

"I have a… how do you say… photographic memory? Most of the truly powerful mages do... and I have never forgotten the moment I first touched you. I knew, even then, even without the Ring of the Heart on your finger, that you were different. You had a hold over me even then. You drew me, though I could never see why." He lowered his finger and walked to a wall shelf that held an assortment of small, stoppered flasks and selected one filled with a murky blue gel. "In answer to your question; yes, I can and do visit your world from time to time. However, I do not do so lightly or often, for it is dangerous to meddle with such portals. There is no telling what might enter or exit with you."

She looked down and then shook her head ever so slightly. "So, why is it that you haven't brought back such things as tanks, guns or bombs?" she asked before looking back up at him.

He raised an eyebrow. "Can you not guess?" Before she could answer, he said, "Think on it and we can discuss it later. The bath will need heating if we speak of it now." Then he handed her the flask.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Something to cleanse your hair with. Enjoy the water. There are towels in the sideboard, there," he added, pointing to the marble-topped table that held the wash bowls. Then he turned and began to exit the room.

"What will you be doing?" she asked nervously, aware that there was no door separating the room from his bedroom.

He grinned at her over one shoulder. "I shall be in my sitting room making my plans against 'you-know-who'."

When he'd gone, she placed the flask next to the pool with two towels and then decided that the best thing to do would be to strip quickly and get in the water before Venger could return.

She did so and sighed as the very warm water surrounded her. The pool was deeper than it looked and when she sat on the built-in ledge the water completely covered her shoulders.

There was a bar of brown soap on the side of the pool near her towels and the flask, that she used to scrub herself with. After rinsing off, she uncovered the flask, took a sniff and was pleased to discover that the gel within smelled like green plants and wildflowers. She wet her hair and scrubbed it clean before holding her nose and sinking below the water to rinse it out.

Then she played with the faucet for a bit, letting more hot water into the pool so that it steamed like a hot tub. It wasn't long before she found herself leaning back against the tile wall in utter relaxation. How she had missed being able to bathe! In this world such things were impossible unless you had a huge tub and were willing to boil and haul water.

She didn't know how long she lay there, blissfully zoned out in the steamy water when the slap of bare feet on tile startled her into opening her eyes. She was shocked to see Venger striding towards her; his legs bare below his wings, which he kept wrapped about him like a cloak.

He was quite obviously naked and intent upon sharing the bath!

Flushing with embarrassment, she slid down further into the water and crossed her arms over her chest, causing him to laugh.

"How very coy, my dear!" he rumbled.

"What do you think you're doing?" she hissed.

He stopped at the edge of the pool opposite her and turned off the hot water faucet she'd left running. "I thought it was obvious; I am planning to bathe."

"I thought you were busy making plans!" she protested. "Can't you wait until I'm done?"

Again he laughed. "You are my wife! There is nothing wrong in us bathing together! Besides, the view is much better when you are here." He took a moment to look her over. "Come now; you are very pleasing to the eye. There is no reason for you to be embarrassed."

"That's easy for you to say when you're hiding behind your wings!" she spat.

He shrugged and she had a second in which to think, 'Oh good God, no!' before he did indeed unwrap himself with a flourish, holding his wings aloft.

"That better?" he asked with a smirk.

She couldn't help but stare as he slowly stepped down into the bath.

His broad shoulders and powerful chest tapered to a lean, well-defined abdomen, which in turn led to lean flanks and hips. His skin; a pale, flawless blue-gray and hairless as well, gave way to a darker blue at his groin. As for his genitals; Sheila felt herself flush with arousal rather than embarrassment at the sight; a fine growth of silky black hair framed some very impressive male attributes. To make matters worse, he seemed to be growing under her gaze.

When her eyes skimmed back upward to his face, she saw that his face, neck and chest were beginning to flush a darker blue. More interestingly than that; the red markings on the inner membranes of his wings seemed to be glowing a much brighter crimson.

I'll have to keep an eye out for that, she thought, realizing that it might be the single best visual indication of his mood she was likely to get when he was dressed.

Thankfully, he finished entering the water and sat down opposite her before her thoughts could stray further or another part of him could finish displaying itself more graphically.

"So," he said, somewhat unsteadily. "We both like what we see. It should make bathing together something to look forward to each day."

She gulped as he stretched his legs out lazily before him and lowered his wings into the water. There was silence for a time as they continued to glance at each other.

Finally she took a stab at some chitchat. "It must take you a while to get those wings scrubbed down, huh?"

"Not as long as you might think." His grin turned positively evil as one such appendage sneaked beneath the water and across the pool to hook and drag her to him. She squealed with surprise as he continued, "They are simply two modified arms and hands. Cleaning them is as easy for me as rubbing my hands together."

He grasped her with an arm as his wing released her and pulled her against him to sit by his side before kissing her soundly. "Better..." he mumbled, lifting his head.

Sheila stared at him mutely as he unexpectedly handed her the soap and turned his back towards her.

"Do you mind?"

"I thought you said that cleaning your wings was easy?" she huffed.

"Yes, but cleaning my back is next to impossible," he countered, then groaned deeply as she began running her lathered hands over the area in question.

She started at the mid line of his back and then moved up to his shoulders, the joints of his wings and then out towards the sides. The groans and sighs coming from him made it evident that he was greatly enjoying the attention... and so was she. Under her hands, the muscles that helped drive those wings felt like coiled steel yet the skin of the membranes themselves felt like elastic silk.

She had a sudden thought. "Your wings; will you miss them?" she asked. "If you become human again?"

He went very still for a moment before answering. "Yes," he growled. "It will not be pleasant, yet I've no doubt that I will adjust."

She continued working, reaching under the wing membranes to get the rest of his back and shoulders as he melted under her touch. "Hmmm," she eventually muttered. "A halo in exchange for the ability to fly; the price of being a fallen angel, I suppose."

He turned to face her and gave her an enigmatic look before reclaiming the soap. "Now then; what will it be?" he asked.

She turned her back towards him. "My back," she said.

He went to work, rubbing and gently scrubbing her down as she melted and sighed, understanding the bliss he'd felt just moments ago when their roles had been reversed. It had been far to long since she'd been touched like this. How much longer had it been for him?

After a while, he grew bolder; his hands beginning to explore the outer edges of her back as his fingers curled around her sides to graze her chest. Again, he bent low to nibble her neck, already having learned her weakness and as she moaned and leaned back against him, he took advantage of her distraction to begin stroking the sides of her breasts.

This time, when she moaned, he groaned in counterpoint. The soap was quickly discarded in the water as one arm snaked around her middle and pulled her closer to him, placing her squarely between his legs while the other moved to lather her upper chest.

When she moaned, his mouth truly began suckling the side of her neck, causing her to squirm with delight... and come right up against is erection. She froze and then extracted herself from his embrace.

"Sheila?" he rumbled.

She refused to answer; if she stayed in here with him even a few more minutes…

Moving to the other side of the pool, she grabbed her towel and wrapped it around herself as she climbed out. Then she retreated towards the bedroom as quickly as decorum would allow while his knowing laughter boomed out behind her.

* * *

Venger was waiting for Presto in the upper turret room when he arrived, which made him nervous even though he knew he wasn't late. 

His new master was seated in a large chair in the corner, reading a large tome that he cradled in his arms. He was dressed in the outfit those in the Realm knew him instantly by and even his one-horned helmet was in place.

It made him far less approachable and far more intimidating, but then again, he'd know that, Presto thought.

Rising to his feet, the fiendish mage placed the tome on a stand in the corner near the chair and then turned to face him.

This day, I'll not keep you overly long," he announced. "However, I will be testing you and exploring which avenues we may or may not take with regard to your learning."

He raised a hand and blue flame sprang up from his fingertips. "There are those who can command only that magic drawn from light, otherwise known as goodness." He raised his other hand and a red, glowing ball of energy appeared in his palm. "There are those who can only command magic drawn from the darkness, from evil." He stared hard at Presto. "And then there are those who are capable of drawing upon both, although most of those mages prove to be more adept at one than the other and the balance between the two varies. This is the most common situation. Very few can only call upon one type of magic, but those who do specialize in only one or the other are very powerful indeed!"

He waved his hands and both the flame and the energy ball dissipated. He walked over to the tome he'd positioned on the stand and gestured for Presto to approach; something he did eagerly.

"Let us see how good you are at reading and memorizing spells," Venger said, then pointed to a spell on the page. "Read this and be prepared to cast it when I tell you to."

He walked to the window and seemed to study the horizon as Presto quickly went through the spell. It was a short one, but far more complex than any he'd already attempted. He also new somehow that it was drawn from light.

"Enough!" his master boomed, turning back to face him. "Cast the spell."

Holding his hands out before him, he spoke the ancient words of power and gestured, instantly feeling magical forces drawn into his body from his surroundings. It brought him a short-lived rush; an indescribable moment of bliss and the feeling that all was right in the world.

He forced the energy to gather before him, between his upraised hands and instantly understood the spell completely.

"I am your target, apprentice," Venger yelled.

Presto flung the pale, glowing sphere he'd produced at his instructor, who quickly cast a spell to counter it and then roared with outrage as the sphere hit him.

Still euphoric, it took him a minute to understand that something was not quite right; Venger was standing stock still, his hands over his eyes. "Master?" he called, suddenly getting a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Did I do something wrong?"

"You executed the spell flawlessly," Venger replied, rubbing his eyes. "And far more effectively that I have ever seen it used. You have impressive potential!" He lowered his hands, revealing eyes of a pale, turbid pink color. "Your sphere of blindness was more powerful than my counter spell, as you can see."

Presto gasped in shock and took a step backwards.

"And where do you think you are going?" came his master's amused voice. "Undo the spell; I've no wish to wait for it to dissipate on its own!"

"But, Master, I don't know how!"

Venger sighed. "The knowledge sits right before you, on the next page of the tome. I suggest you take care to get this next spell correct."

Presto did as he was told and a moment later felt that same power gather within him. When he released it, the fiendish mage blinked, his eyes again turning their usual crimson color.

"Well done, " he commented. "My vision is restored." He raised an eyebrow and gave Presto a strange look, as he walked to the book stand and began turning the Tome's pages. Eventually he stopped and pointed at the current page. "Let us see how you do with this one."

Venger returned to the window, again giving his apprentice a limited amount of time in which to study and memorize the spell.

This time Presto felt a sense of unease as her realized that unlike the defense spell that came before it, the new spell was drawn from darkness and was an offensive spell.

"You've had time enough; cast your spell," Venger prompted.

He stared at his master, who nodded and added," Yes, I am your target once more."

Again, Presto felt the power rise up within him as he chanted the words, but something seemed to be wrong; he felt a twisting inside him and pain rather than the usual exhilaration. He felt powerful and wild; as though no one could ever touch him! Then the spell began to drain him, while pulling power through the castle around him... and it did so as it pleased.

He fought it, but soon realized that he'd lost control of the spell.

Quickly reaching peak power, the energy erupted from him in a line of crimson, as he screamed in pain, "Master, look out!"

He saw the look on Venger's face; a sudden expression of both fear and comprehension as the mage cast a spell of protection and leaped out of the way.

Thankfully the blast just missed him, instead hitting the stone wall and destroying it in an explosion of heat and a rain of falling stone. As the last rumbles of settling rubble faded, he could hear his master bellow in pain and he started forward through the dusty room in search of him.

"Venger!" he cried out, fearfully, finding the mage crouched on the floor amid the rubble. Then the dust settled enough for him to see the reason his master was rocking back and forth in agony; part of his left wing was missing!

"I will live," he groaned, clutching the bleeding and mangled bones above the gory wound. "My fault; I should have realized sooner that the spell had taken you over…"

Horrified, Presto realized that Venger's wing had extended beyond his sphere of protection and that it had also been the last thing to clear the blast area when the mage dove for cover. In other words; every part of it that had been outside the sphere had been vaporized! Half of the first two wing digits were gone, along with a large portion of the connecting wing membrane and despite his grip on the largest bone; Venger was losing a lot of blood.

Without even thinking twice, Presto quickly spoke words of healing that he'd learned from an old master he'd met in the southern marshlands and passed his hands over the damaged tissues.

Almost immediately, Venger stopped gasping and took a deep breath, his color changing from a sickly gray to his natural pale blue tint. Before the startled eyes of the fiendish wizard, his wing began to regenerate, becoming whole once more.

He stood and dusted himself off, then flexed the wing and fixed Presto with a piercing stare. "Where did you learn that spell?" he asked.

Presto told him and found himself cringing when Venger began to laugh. "What... what is it?" he finally got up the courage to ask.

His master shook his head. "Only that I know the master who taught you that. All I know is that I am grateful that he did, and that you are so adept at using it! I could have healed myself, but such an injury would have taken me days.." Then he rubbed his chin and looked pensive. "Now then, the big question is what to do with you..."

"Master, I'm sorry!" Presto apologized. "I don't know what happened; I've never had anything go wrong like that before!"

Venger shrugged. "No doubt because you've never attempted a dark spell before." He turned to look at the huge hole in the stone wall. "Hmmm, I shall have to get the Orcs working on this. It should take them several days, but they could use something to keep them occupied, therefore your little accident has had unforeseen positive results."

As he said it, the mage froze as though something significant had suddenly occurred to him and then gave Presto a very strange look indeed.

"I've learned what I needed to learn," he announced. "Now I have only to decide how best to hone your particular talents. I can see that it has taken something out of you, so return to your chambers and rest. I'll have your meal served to you there."

"Thank-you," he replied, bowing in deference.

"Later," Venger continued, "After I hold my audiences for the day, I will summon you so that I may show you first hand what is happening in the Realm these days. Now be off with you."

In truth, Presto was feeling very drained; the last two spells having taken a lot out of him, so he was grateful for the chance to catch up on his rest. He left the room and quickly headed down the stairs, all the while worrying over what his strange failure had meant.

* * *

"Mistress!" 

Sheila jumped almost a foot at the shadow demon's unexpected appearance, then turned to confront him. "Don't ever sneak up on me!" she chastised it.

For its part, the demon instantly appeared to be contrite, bowing and wringing its hands before it. "I am sorry mistress," it said, sounding cowed. "But the master is very busy and extends an invitation for you to take the afternoon meal with him in the library if you wish. Otherwise, you are welcome to dine here or with your friend, if he has finished resting."

She was very curious to hear from Presto about how his first day learning had gone, for she realized that Venger was unlikely to speak of it, yet she also wished to see her new husband again; the morning bath having greatly increased her interest in him.

"Tell him that I would prefer his company," she said.

With a nod, the demon blipped out, only to reappear moments later. "He says that you may come when you are ready," he said, relaying the message before again disappearing.

Smiling in anticipation, she changed from her simple peasant's dress to a more elegant gown and then made her way towards the main audience chamber.

She'd spent the rest of the morning snooping through Venger's chamber; after all, it was now hers as well! What she'd found had been interesting to say the least.

Everything from his books to his clothing to the strange items she could not place, were all very neatly arranged. Everything was orderly; the sign of a highly organized mind. In addition, everything was tasteful and clean. He had items that seemed to be mementos as well; shells, trinkets, pressed leaves and colorful stones. Obviously, despite the curse and his heretofore evil nature, he had still retained some passion for life and an appreciation of beauty.

She was brought up short in her musings by her arrival in the audience chamber and she quickly made her way to the secret door behind the throne, which opened by itself as she approached.

Stepping through, she spotted Venger seated at a heavy oak table, where he was apparently studying a book. His helmet was off and resting on the table near him.

He looked up at her as she entered.

"Did you do that?" she asked, indicating the door.

He stood and nodded. "Who else?" he replied.

"So then; you can tell when I'm nearby?" she asked, not certain that she liked the idea.

He glided forward to greet her with a hug and a quick kiss. "I can now that we are bound to each other," he confessed.

She would have questioned him further, but then noticed that his armor was dented and his clothing dusty. "Are you alright?" she asked, suddenly anxious. "Is Presto?"

He smiled, but it was a grim one. "Yes, we are both alright," was all he said, before changing the subject. "Please help yourself." He indicated the smaller table on the side of the room, where a lovely meal had been laid out.

She frowned, as he moved back towards his book. "Won't you be joining me?"

"Soon. I have something which urgently requires my attention." He sat and immediately was again engrossed with his book.

Realizing that it wouldn't be wise to distract him, she sat and picked at the food that had been laid out, all the while surreptitiously watching him. After a time, he grunted and closed the book, but rather than joining her, he stood and began pacing.

She continued to nibble and watched him, suddenly fascinated by this glimpse at the more mundane side of the great Venger.

He would pace, then stop and stare off at something only he could see, before resuming his pacing. Still, it wasn't until he reached up to grasp and lean on the high, heavy fireplace mantle and cup his chin with his other hand, that she risked speaking.

"What is troubling you?" she asked.

He looked up as though only just remembering that she was there and then straightened and moved to take the seat opposite her. "Tell me; If I were to say that the Realm was in conflict, how would you describe that conflict?"

She blinked. "I'd say that it's a battle between good and evil for control of this world," she replied.

He smiled toothily and nodded his head. "You've answered as would nearly anyone asked that question," he breathed. "And like them, you too are making a major error in your assumption." He leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers before him. "The battle is not between good and evil, for they are forces that are in balance. Good can only be good; it can only see good and act in a manner that is good. Evil can only be evil; it cannot see anything but evil, evil intentions, evil thoughts, evil deeds and it knows that true good can never be turned to evil. No, Sheila, the battle that rages in the Realm, and indeed everywhere, is the battle of those in between. Only those of us in both evil and good exist, can be swayed one way or the other. Only we can fight each other in the hopes of shifting the balance."

Sheila sat bolt upright, instantly recognizing what he said as the truth. "In my world, they say that there is no black or white, but only shades of gray," she offered.

He nodded. "What most people do not comprehend is that the balance is almost always just that; balanced. Neither good nor evil may triumph unless that balance is shifted radically by some event or events. Even then, the natural order seems to kick in and provide some catastrophe or event that will quickly restore the balance."

She felt her hair starting to stand on end. "What are you saying without saying it?" she asked.

He looked pensive for a moment. "I am not certain, but this I do know; there have been two sudden, major shifts in favor of good which the main champion of evil remains ignorant of. On the other hand, the champion of good is, I am quite certain, aware of the change. This seems to mean that a major shift back to balance is about to occur. The question is; what will happen if it comes to pass?"

"But, Venger," she protested. "How do you know that we aren't already out of equilibrium and that what you see happening isn't actually the massive shift back to true balance?"

He sat upright and gaped at her for a second before smirking. "Mmmm, a woman of such intelligence is one I could easily lose my heart to," he murmured, reaching for her hand and kissing it.

She blushed furiously.

He stood and helped her to her feet. "I'm afraid that I have much to attend to and must therefore ask you to depart. If at all possible, I will join you for the evening meal. If I do not, then do not wait up for me."

"OK," she replied, suddenly disappointed.

He lifted her chin and chuckled as he gazed down at her. "Miss me already, hmmm? I find that even more satisfying than teasing you in the bath earlier this morning. Just remember, little thief, that it will make our reunion that much sweeter."

Venger kissed her hard, then turned her around and gave her a shove in the direction of the door.

She took one more look over her shoulder at him just before the door closed behind her, leaving her flushed and strangely exhilarated despite the disturbing conversation they'd had.

* * *

"I take it that you were listening?" Venger said, seemingly speaking to the air. 

Dungeon Master slowly faded into view, standing near the fireplace. "I was," he admitted. "I must say that I am surprised by your understanding of the situation, and hers."

"It is amazing how well one may think when not enslaved to an evil entity," he hissed, turning to finally face his father. "Tell me; did you disguise yourself as an old master and teach my apprentice that spell of healing because you knew I would need it this day?"

Dungeon Master smiled. "It was the least I can do for you and no; I did not know for certain that it would aid you, though I did hope that we would be standing where we are today. Besides, the boy has great, almost unlimited potential. It would have been a crime not to make a healer of him."

So saying, the little man moved towards the table and ran his hand over the book Venger had been reading. "A History of the Dungeon Master," he read. "The very book written by my predecessor and given to me when I assumed the role, with the understanding that I would know when to reveal it."

"I had wondered at its sudden appearance in my library," Venger replied. "But I quickly realized why you had placed it here and why you did so now."

"I do not envy you your task," the dungeon master said, with a shake of his head.

"And I do not envy my apprentice his," Venger replied. "I greatly fear for him and his future. Nothing is absolutely written and he may easily perish during his training."

"Indeed," Dungeon Master replied.

* * *

Venger spent the next few hours in his audience chamber listening to first hand accounts of the happenings of the Realm. Once or twice he'd had to chastise an public official or military leader and he'd done so quickly and painfully as was his habit, but inside he'd been cringing. 

He was very glad when the chore was over and the castle's visitors had gone. It was something he used to relish but which now left him sweaty and ill. Still, it was necessary; he had a duty to his world and he could not rule if he did not have all the facts. In the past these audiences were a means to conquering the Realm's last free societies, now they were the means of saving them.

Making his way down to the first level, he crossed the courtyard, pausing to glare at the Orcs repairing the top of the front turret. They quickly noticed him and redoubled their efforts while those among them that head been slacking now worked the hardest.

Throwing them one last sneer, he exited the portcullis and made for the stables while bellowing for his shadow demon.

* * *

It was approaching four in the afternoon when Presto was summoned via the shadow demon. He'd been instructed to wear his riding breeches and a new, gray tunic and red boots that the servants provided for him. 

Apparently his master had changed his mind about dressing him in black.

A short time later, he joined Venger in the stables, as he'd been instructed and found his master stroking the head and neck of his Nightmare.

Venger raised his head and looked at him when he entered. "Good! Let's be off; I've much to show you before nightfall," he said, then led his steed outside while Presto trailed behind.

Once out of the building, the fiendish wizard mounted up easily and then extended a hand to him. He took it and was hoisted up behind his master. Then, almost before he'd settled into the saddle, the Nightmare sprang skywards and he had to clutch at Venger to keep from falling. Only when the demon steed had leveled off in flight, did he realized just how tightly he was gripping Venger's waist and let go in embarrassment.

Venger laughed; a deep resonant sound. "The first time riding a steed such as mine is a real lesson in balance," he said. "You are my apprentice, and as such you are allowed to touch my person, for I am now responsible for you. I suggest that you hold on to me; just to be on the safe side."

"Yes master," he mumbled, as he gingerly took hold.

11111111111111111

Five hours later, he was too tired to care if he even leaned against his master for support; which he did. He'd become an accomplished horseman over the years, but flying on a Nightmare was much more difficult than riding a mortal steed. For one thing, they could drop a hundred feet unexpectedly or the wind could whip up furiously and unbalance you.

Then there was the never ending cold when they were at higher altitudes; it froze you to the marrow and sapped your strength. Thank goodness that Venger seemed to have a shield of some sort around him. If Presto remained in close proximity; as he'd quickly learned to do, then he at least kept from freezing.

They'd made the rounds of an enormous portion of the Realm, the Nightmare flying at impossible speeds while Venger quickly scanned the lands below with his sharp eyes and commented upon the major issues in each area. Several were beset with famine, several others with plague, while yet others were completely decimated by war.

To his credit, Venger did not seek to hide his involvement in the current ills; if he'd brought some evil about, he told Presto so and explained why and how he had done so. He'd appeared quite distraught as they witnessed an old lady dying in a ditch far below; her lips stained green from trying to eat the grass. "Would that it were not too late for her," he'd lamented.

"But master; is there nothing you can do?" Presto had asked.

"No. Nothing for her. Yet, others may be saved, but not by my hand; I must not do anything that would tip off my master."

"Then who will save them?" he'd asked. "Dungeon Master?"

Venger had shaken his head and half turned in the saddle to look at him. "Don't you think he would have done so by now? No my apprentice; this is to be your burden."

"Mine?!"

Venger had nodded, his face grim. "You may study hard and work at it for many long years before you master what you need to fix this, but fix it you must. It will be a great trial for you; only remember who and what you are, even when the situation seems hopeless and you will succeed."

"What?"

Venger faced front again. "Hold on; the hour is late and we must return. I daresay you've seen enough for one day."

1111111111111111

They landed many hours after their departure; atop the castle tower.

Presto was so tired that his legs collapsed on him as soon as Venger swung him down to the ground. Only his master's grip on his forearm held him aloft until he could get his feet under him.

Then Venger dismounted and swatted his steed on the rump. It made a bee-line for the stable as he swung to face him. "Retire for the night; eat, drink, soak in the bath and sleep. Your lessons tomorrow shall begin two hours after dawn in my reflection room. Do not be late!"

So saying, the fiendish mage leaped from the tower and glided around towards the enclosed garden.

Presto did as he was told and fell asleep twice in the bath before finally dragging himself to bed.

* * *

Sheila had only just returned to to their chambers after her evening stroll through the garden, when Venger called her name from the balcony. She quickly rounded the sitting room doorway into the bedroom just as he entered from the other doorway and they ended up colliding with each other. 

His arms reached out to steady her and then she felt herself being pulled into a hug even as they both began laughing.

"Have you already eaten?" he eventually asked, after they'd grown self conscious of staring at each other.

"No," she replied. "I was waiting a little longer to see if you would be able to join me."

It earned her a kiss and then he turned her loose and headed for the bathing room. "I must wash up," he said over his shoulder. "I smell like the sulfur pits themselves. The servants will be in shortly with our meal and I will join you then."

"OK." She stood in the bedroom as he disappeared and couldn't help but imagine him undressing in the next room. The thought made her flush with warmth and she quickly retreated into the sitting room to put a bit more space between them.

* * *

Ten minutes later, Venger emerged to join her on the balcony before an elaborately laid out dinner table. 

He looked far more handsome than any fiend had a right to, she thought. His hair was clean, though still wet and hung down his back in a black, shiny curtain. He was wearing clean black breeches, plain black boots and a turquoise colored tunic with elaborate silver embroidery.

"Did you mentally request all this?" she asked, indicating the table when she could think straight again.

He moved to stand in front of her and tipped her chin up with a finger so that he could bend and kiss her lips. "I did..." he murmured against her mouth. "My appetite is strong this night."

She shivered deliciously at the implied meaning behind his words and knew he'd felt her reaction at the sight of the grin that appeared on his face.

He gave her one more kiss, then straightened and led her to her chair, which he pulled out for her. "Come; let's eat and talk. It is a beautiful night after all and I have missed your company." As she sat, he pushed her chair in for her.

* * *

Only one day spent married and Venger found himself completely captivated by his new wife, despite the worries of the day. He also felt himself feeling something he hadn't felt in several centuries; the beginnings of a hormonal shift that would soon have him in fiendish equivalent of a rut. 

It was natures way of ensuring that such selfish creatures reproduced and while in such a state, even fiends became affectionate and willing to do nearly anything for the opportunity to mate. It was also the reason that so many fiendish half breeds existed in this world; they weren't very discriminating when it came to the choice of a partner.

Fortunately for him. it wasn't something he couldn't control, for he was at least partly human where his soul was concerned, but it would make things very difficult for him soon enough.

He could only hope that he would win her heart and her trust before he found himself in a very frustrated state.

And it had been during just such a state that he'd taken his betrothed, his Suhailah's, virginity and kept her abed for much of her waking hours and for weeks on end. He would not do such a thing to Sheila again... unless she expressly wished it. As for the other times over the centuries that this had occurred; he would make certain that Sheila never learned of them or how he'd satisfied himself...

"Are you all right?" she suddenly asked.

He realized that he was sitting there, a platter of food held in his unmoving hand.

"Yes," he replied with a shake of his head as he helped himself to the meat. "It is only that it has been a trying day."

Sheila finished chewing some bread. "Want to talk about it?"

He smiled at her. "No. It is enough that I lived it." Placing the tray on the table, he leaned towards her. "I would like to hear something of your life, though."

She looked at him warily. "Like what?"

"Tell me what happened to your brother."

She looked at him anxiously, as though she were about to refuse, but then put down her fork and began hesitantly talking.

"It was shortly after Hank left me," she began. "I was still devastated and too ill to work. We had very little left to eat and Bobby, seeing himself as the male provider, was adamant about finding a better job. He felt that he wasn't able to bring home enough money to take proper care of me, especially since Hank was no longer there to supplement our food with fresh meat."

"I was too wrapped up in my own misery to realize what he was planning. It was only when I awoke one morning to find a note on the table and a bag of coins that I knew; he'd indentured himself into a local army platoon under the command of Warduke. Worse yet; they'd left early the night before and I was too weak to catch up with them on foot."

"Just like that; he was gone from my life and Uni as well, although I never did know what happened to her or where she went. I could easily see her trying to follow him and being made to leave, but I had so hoped that if that were the case she would have returned to me." Sheila wiped tears from her eyes and stared down at the table before her, clearly on the verge of a breakdown.

"How did you discover that he'd died?" Venger asked gently, taking her hand in his own.

She sniffed and managed to continue. "I spent the next several years trying to track that platoon, trying to find him. I'd heard rumors about them fighting in this or that battle and sometimes a villager would lose kin who were in his platoon and I'd find out where they'd been when they died."

"One day a villager, who had joined at the same time as Bobby, returned alive having served out his allotted term. He made his way to my door and delivered Bobby's helmet with news that he'd died in a raid a few months earlier." Sheila started crying loudly and sobbed out, "He would soon have been a free man!"

Rising, Venger quickly moved around the table and gathered her up in his arms as a sense of protectiveness unlike any he'd felt before rose up within him. Wrapping his wings about her as well, he rocked her gently, whispering words of endearment and comfort as she clung to him, balling up his tunic in her hands.

When her crying began to abate, he spoke, "I have the means to determine your brother's fate once and for all and remove all doubts from your mind. Would you wish me to do so?"

She looked up at him then, her eyes red, her cheeks flushed and wet with tears. "Please? I've been tormented with dreams and imaginings about what happened. And far too often I find myself hoping that maybe he's still alive after all."

"Are you prepared to accept and live with the truth?" he cautioned.

She nodded and he kissed her gently before releasing her from his embrace. Taking her hand, he led her to the bed and sat her down there before retrieving an ornate, hand held mirror from the sitting room. Sitting beside her, he held it up in front of them and spoke the required words of power as he passed his hand over the mirror's face.

Sheila pressed up against him and stared avidly at the mirror's surface, which was fogging up and becoming opaque.

An instant later, he was very surprised to see that no image had formed. "How strange," he commented. "I am unable to scry his past!"

She looked at him with anxious eyes. "What does it mean?" she asked.

He felt himself frowning. "Magic," he replied. "Either involved with his demise or in keeping the truth from us... But wait! Something is coming through!"

The mirror suddenly cleared to reveal a beautiful grassy plane where a unicorn lifted her head into the frame and stared directly at them as though seeing them in the mirror. She let out a joyous bleat just before the mirror again became nothing more than a reflection of the two of them.

"Uni..." Sheila breathed. "That was Uni; I'd recognize her anywhere!"

"Unicorn magic is powerful indeed," he said thoughtfully. "She was bound to your brother while he lived, yet I am not certain why my attempt to scry his past was intercepted by her. It could be that she is hiding some truth from us."

"She may be doing so because she thinks you're still evil," Sheila said.

"No, my dear," he corrected her as he put an arm around her shoulders. "Unicorns are masters of discerning good from evil. Even at this distance and through an enchanted mirror, she would know that I have been released from my servitude."

Searching her face, he could see her disappointment and heartbreak at once again being denied closure. "We will try again each day," he promised. "In the meantime, it has been a very long day and it would do you good to get some sleep."

"What about you?" she asked nervously.

He smiled at her. "I sleep only every third night," he explained. "It is part of my fiendish makeup. But I could easily change my mind and join you if you wish me to?"

She blushed a brilliant red and stuttered, "Uh... uh... I should be alright. What will you do while I'm sleeping?"

He shrugged. "I'll read and study." At the look she gave him, he added, "In the sitting room or on the balcony." Giving her shoulder a squeeze, he stood up, bid her good-night and moved back out to the living area, where he tried with limited success to keep his mind on his studies.

It was difficult at best.

He couldn't help but be distracted by the sound of her in the bathing room, getting ready for bed. Even after she'd retired, he could occasionally hear her sigh or toss beneath the sheets.

Finally standing, book in hand, he moved to the bedroom doorway and quickly saw that she was still awake.

"Unable to sleep?" he asked, softly.

"Strange surroundings," came her frustrated reply.

Without thinking twice and feeling an electric jolt of anticipation, he moved to the bed and climbed under the covers, then propped himself in a sitting position. Reaching out with one arm, he pulled her up against him, gently guided her head to rest on his abdomen and began playing with her hair as he resumed reading his book.

It was all an act, of course; he was unable to concentrate on the pages while his mind was completely focused on her.

Still, it proved mutually beneficial; she was sound asleep in minutes and he got to hold her for a time before extricating himself and returning to the sitting room to work on matters of the Realm.

* * *

It was very early in the morning when Sheila awoke to find Venger sitting out on the balcony, waiting for her. When she staggered out, rubbing her eyes against the glare of the rising suns, he held out an arm to her and without thinking she moved over to him and let him pull her into a quick hug. 

"Morning," she mumbled as he released her.

It made him smile.

"What did you do with yourself while I was dead to the world?" she asked, taking a seat.

Somehow Venger's blind servant instantly made an appearance with breakfast and began laying out the table.

"I read, I studied, I made plans; the usual things for me," he replied. "But this time I had the pleasure of occasionally wandering into the bedroom to check on you."

She felt herself blush, but he continued, unaffected.

"When you would sigh and shift in your sleep, it was all I could do to keep from climbing back into the bed with you. Oh how I long to be able to sleep like that once more..."

"Do you mean that you don't sleep well, even when you do sleep?" she asked.

He nodded. "I awaken many times each night and I suspect that I am tormented by bad dreams, although I can never remember them when I've awakened."

"Isn't there some potion you could make to help you sleep?"

He shook his head. "Best not to meddle with such things when it can be avoided."

She nodded her understanding and they began eating, neither feeling the need to talk, yet each stealing glances at each other all through the meal.

When he saw that she was done, Venger pushed away his own plate and stood, then captured her hand and led her into the bedroom. Once there, he let go of her and began stripping away his tunic.

"What are you doing?" she asked, alarmed.

"Preparing for our bath," he replied, pausing with his hands on the closure of his breeches. Suddenly becoming aware of her stricken look, he smirked. "Would you feel better if I undressed and entered the bath first?"

"Yeah..." she breathed.

"Very well." He turned and stalked towards the bathing room, but then shrugged a wing aside and glanced back over a shoulder at her. "Do not be too long," he cautioned. "...Lest I come back to fetch you."

Again she only managed to nod, but once he was gone she felt her paralysis fade away to be replaced with both anticipation and a sense of panic. She hadn't believed that he would really insist on making this a daily ritual and she didn't know how long she could endure it before making a fool of herself; she was finding him far too attractive already!

"Sheila!" he boomed from the other room. "What takes you so long?"

"Uh... Just a minute!" she yelled back, as she stripped off her shift and wrapped herself in a towel that was hanging near the bedroom washbowl. Then with a deep breath, she slowly made her way to the other room. At the doorway, she saw that he was positioned directly opposite her in the bathing pool so as to easily view her approach and the thought made her stomach flip-flop.

Dammit! She thought to herself. I have to stop being so childish around him. I am the woman; the one with the power here. I should act it! Forcing herself to act before she lost her nerve, she pulled off her towel and threw it over one of the chairs that stood near the doorway.

Then she held her head high and walked directly towards him, moving her hips a bit more than usual. He stared at her dumbfounded as she approached and then walked around the pool to stand right over him. "See something you like?" she asked as he looked up at her.

From the way his chest flushed and his wings glowed she knew he did indeed like what he saw, but it was still satisfying to see him nod and hear him rumble, "Come here, woman!"

His arm shot up and grasped her own as a wing swept behind her and she found herself quickly propelled forward into the bath and made to sit beside him.

Sheila wasn't quite done, though. The success of her brazen approach left her confident enough for one more payback; Rather than sitting beside him, she slid into his lap, straddling him as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a deep kiss. She couldn't help but feel the full length of his hardness as he slid down into a slouch so that she was pressing intimately down upon it.

This time it was he who broke off the kiss and had to come up for air. Indeed, his breath was coming in ragged heaves, as his fingers gripped her hips and lifted her away from him.

"You play a dangerous game..." he rumbled, turning to face her as he placed her on the ledge beside him and watched her with heavily lidded eyes.

"It is no game," she husked back, "But if it is, then it is the one you chose to play; after all you are the one who insists on taunting me with this daily ritual."

Venger nodded, his pupils dilated with passion. "It seemed like a good way in which to get you over your fear of my form," he admitted. "Fortunately, it seems to have worked, although perhaps too well, for now I am the one who is off guard."

She laughed. "In my world we have a saying; If you play with fire, you're going to get burned!"

"Indeed!" He gathered her close for one more kiss, albeit a less passionate one and then handed her the soap as he turned his back to her. "And now, would you mind?" he asked.

She smiled and went to work on his back.

* * *

Days passed, then weeks, as a routine was set: rising, a breakfast shared between the three of them, bathing with her new husband, Venger teaching Presto, time out for the afternoon meal, formal audiences with subordinates, touring the lands and her favorite; a moonlit dinner for two filled with good conversation and as ever, Venger's wooing of her followed by bed. 

And with each passing day Sheila found herself more in awe of her husband. His intellect, patience and tenacity, combined with his obvious affection for her, left her constantly yearning for his company and craving more. Each time they bathed together, she grew bolder, running her hands over more of him and making no secret of the fact that she liked it. She was beginning to crave him, his company, his approval... Was she falling in love with him? She hoped that she was; that it wasn't just a strange infatuation or curiosity about him. More than anything, she feared mistaking her own motives and feelings.

As for Venger; he seemed to be suppressing a smoldering passion. It was evident in the way she caught him looking at her, in the way he touched her and kissed her whenever he could and sometimes those kisses nearly burned her with their intensity.

He never pressured her, but his wooing of her was masterful and impossible to resist. He could have had her at any time and she never would have made the slightest protest, yet, to her disappointment, he always backed off, slowed down and withdrew.

She'd noticed something else as well; Venger looked different.

It wasn't a big change, but it seemed very apparent to her; the black patches beneath his eyes were larger and even darker. The crimson of his inner wings was so brilliant it seemed to glow. Even his complexion had changed, turning a deeper blue and his voice had become even deeper, something she hadn't thought possible.

Rather than finding the changes in him strange, she found them very attractive, but she was curious about it as well. Still, she couldn't bring herself to ask him about it for fear that his answer prove to be of a sexual nature.

"My God," she finally said aloud to herself four weeks after his curse had been broken. "I've fallen in love with my husband!"

By then she knew it to be the truth of the matter. She loved him; this wasn't merely lust, this wasn't merely familiarity from their previous life together, this wasn't just curiosity.

She knew it to be true because she wished him well in a true and unselfish way.

Now she need only be certain of him and his own motives.

One afternoon, while Venger and Presto were away from the castle on business, depriving her even of the nightmare's company, Sheila began perusing some of the books that Venger kept in his sitting room.

One of them seemed to have been very well read; it had been rebound numerous times and even had more than one cover over the original, worn and unreadable one. It must have been one of his favorites and that alone was enough to pike her curiosity.

Getting herself comfortable on the couch, she psyched herself up for the inevitable tedious translation she would need to do to read it, then opened it to the cover page. To her surprise it was written in English!

"This can't be right," she breathed and looked again. Sure enough, it said, "Basic Principles of Magic and Sorcery."

She shook her head. The book must have a spell on it, making it readable to anyone capable of reading, regardless of their language. That made it the first book she would really be able to read since coming to this world.

With a sigh of contentment she dove into it.

She was therefore startled and extremely distraught when she looked up a short time later to find Kareena sitting on the couch near her feet. The book slipped through her nerveless fingers as she froze in fright.

"Oh, Sheila!" Kareena laughed. "You should see your face!"

"You're dead!" she gasped, drawing her feet up under her and refusing to take her eyes off the ghost for a second.

Kareena sighed. "You have me there; apparently I am no longer living."

"But..."

"It's simple, Sheila; I am just a manifestation of Kareena's personality that was left behind in the your ring," she explained. "I have something I want you to know, something you must know now that you have married my brother."

"How could you know that if you died before it happened?" Sheila asked, even more confused.

The apparition laughed. "This information would never be released to you if you were not married to him and his soul restored as I had so hoped would happen. Now listen, Sheila, I haven't much time in which to tell you of our lineage, so you must just be quiet and pay attention."

"Have you never wondered why it is that I have wings? If Venger was cursed; changed to a fiend, then why do I also have fiendish features?"

"Oh, the Ring of the Heart did indeed affect me; linking me to my twin in such a way that his evil spilled over into my being. That is why I became cruel and ambitious... until you freed me by taking the ring, but the ring did not change my physical self. I appeared as a human to you when first we met, but that was never my true form; the form you later came to know me in is the true me."

"Then Venger was never human..." Sheila breathed.

Kareena's ghost smiled. "Neither of us ever were fully human; only half human, the offspring of a human man and a female fiend. It is too long a story for me to tell you, but perhaps Venger will, once he knows you know the truth."

"We spent most of our lives before the curse, hiding what we were. For him the disguise soon became imperative for no one would trust a hero who was half fiend and he had a fiancée who did not know... who he could not bring himself to confide in."

"And so he lived in fear that you would discover his secret and leave him. Because of this he never allowed himself to lower his guard with anyone but me. He lived his life with a wall between himself and those he cared for. Unlike me, he actually grew ashamed of what he was."

"Sheila, sooner or later he will make the attempt to destroy his master. If he succeeds, he will be changed back to his true form. Don't you see; he cannot go into that battle fearing the consequences of victory! He must fully embrace the possibility of his restoration. He must know that you love him as he is! Whatever you do, you must accept him fully."

Before Sheila could speak, Kareena vanished.

* * *

The four suns were setting and lighting the land a fiery color when Venger landed his Nightmare atop the castle's front turret. Once again gripping his master's forearm, Presto dismounted, but these days he managed to make it look easy as he swung gracefully down to his feet. 

It was then that he noticed that the mage was staring into the distance behind him and turning he spied something cresting the horizon of the road. The surprised look on his master's face made it evident that his inhumanly sharp eyes could discern exactly what was heading their way.

"What is it?" he asked, still squinting into the distance. "And why would it be headed this way?"

Venger looked down at him and then suddenly dismounted, slapping the demon horse's rump so that it would return to the stables. Then he spoke, "I must find Sheila. This is a creature that both you and she would wish to greet! I suggest that you await us before the portcullis."

With a clap of displaced air, the mage vanished.

"Oh how I hate it when he does that..." Presto gulped, after having been badly startled. Taking one more squinting look at the approaching guest and still unable to discern what it might be, he descended the stairs and did as his master suggested.

* * *

Venger reappeared on his chamber balcony in the hopes of not frightening his spouse and then made his way into the sitting room to find her dozing on the couch. Stooping, he retrieved the book that had fallen out of her limp hands and landed on the floor beside her and then glanced at the title. 

He smiled, both amused and pleased to see that she'd been investigating the principles of magic. The book she'd been reading was one that one of his own instructors had written and which he had spent many hours studying in his youth.

Placing it on a nearby table, he stood silently for a time, regarding her and wondering at the perversities of fate. Sheila was Suhailah, yet not, for she'd lived so different a life this time around. Still, all those major elements of character that were the basis of personality had remained unchanged. It was like looking at his past love through a foggy looking glass; he could still recognize her, but the image was distorted. And it wasn't as though he were disturbed or disappointed in her current incarnation; on the contrary, he found her to have grown well beyond the capabilities of her former self. Her soul was older and despite the relative naivety of her youthful new self, she was more deeply grounded, more complex and far more attractive to him than she'd ever been before.

He could only hope that in time she would accept him as fully as he accepted her.

Kneeling before her, he leaned in slowly and breathed out on her neck, pleased when she sighed in her sleep. He next nuzzled his cheek against her own, barely breathing her name near her ear.

She stirred and when she jumped in surprise, he wrapped her in his arms and kissed her on the lips.

"Did you have a pleasant nap?" he husked.

She'd calmed as soon as she realized it was him and now lay passively in his embrace. "I was, until you scared me awake," she protested.

He chuckled. "Then I shall have to make it up to you by stating my reason for doing so." Releasing her, he came to his feet and offered her his hand. As she took it, he pulled her to her feet and placed his hands on her shoulders. "My apprentice awaits us before the castle gates, for an acquaintance of yours approaches. I thought I might fetch you to be there when she arrives."

"Someone I know? Really?" she asked, her eyes wide. At his nod, she added. "Who?"

He took her hand and began to lead her to the balcony. "Come along and see!"

"Aren't we going the wrong way?"

He couldn't help but smile; she still had so much to learn about him! Reaching his destination, he scooped her up and jumped.

Sheila screamed and latched onto him tightly even as he snapped his wings open and landed lightly in the garden below. She was whimpering from reaction, but he found himself delighted by her fierce embrace.

"All is well," he whispered, taking advantage of the moment by holding her tightly in return, but her fear quickly gave way to anger and she let go, shoving at him.

"Put me down!"

He did no such thing and teleported them instead.

When they reappeared, she was trembling in his arms, her eyes wide in fright.

"There you are!" Presto chided, pushing his glasses up his nose. "I was beginning to think I might have to greet our guest by myself."

Venger released Sheila, who glared at him murderously, but then turned to view their approaching visitor with curiosity and excitement.

"Whatever it is, it has four legs," Presto remarked.

Sheila squinted, shielding her eyes with a hand and then yelled with glee, "Uni!"

Before Presto could react, she was racing towards the approaching unicorn.

"Uni?" His apprentice was stunned and Venger took a moment to explain.

"I scried her some weeks ago and it would seem that being a creature of magic, she saw Sheila as well. I would guess that she's been traveling to met us ever since."

Presto gaped at him and then also broke into a frenzied run, heading toward the unicorn, who was now bleating excitedly.

With a sigh, Venger set out to follow, but chose to merely walk. There was no sense in him disrupting the happy reunion, so he watched from afar as he slowly made his way to them.

* * *

Sheila found herself sobbing with joy as she reached the unicorn and flung her arms around her neck. Uni nuzzled her, producing sounds of joy as well. 

The little unicorn she'd once known was all grown up now; at least four feet at the shoulder, but still recognizable by her strange pink eyes and red main and tail.

"Uni! I thought I might never see you again!" she sobbed, stroking the unicorn. "I was so glad to see you in the mirror and know that you were all right, but I never dreamed that you would come all this way to see me!"

Uni lifted her head and snorted, then attempted to communicate by making human-like sounds, as she often had tried to do when young. It sounded like she said, "Umm-Hmmm!"

In the next second, Presto arrived and likewise gathered the unicorn in an embrace. "Uni! I'd know you anywhere!" he exclaimed. "I can't believe that you came to see us!"

Uni licked his face, then stepped back and looked at the approaching mage.

She and Presto turned to watch as he cautioned her, "This might not go over very well..."

"She's a unicorn, Presto," she whispered back. "She can sense evil, bit also good. Don't you see; its the perfect chance to find out for certain where Venger ranks on the scale!"

Venger came to a stop three feet from the unicorn in question, then nodded his head and greeted her, "Welcome. You are my guest and free to come or go as you choose."

Then Uni did something that made the two of them gasp in absolute shock; she got down on both front knees and bowed to Venger!

Presto's hand took a death grip on Sheila's upper arm as he froze.

"Presto?" she asked apprehensively. "What's happening?"

"Uni has just placed herself in his service," the magician gasped, too shocked to even continue.

* * *

It was very late when Sheila left Presto's room and made her way down the corridor to her new chambers; hers and Venger's. 

Uni had opted to stay with Presto rather than in the stables and she and the two of them had spent the evening together in his rooms, Venger having dismissed himself after their large, shared dinner with the excuse that they had much to catch up on and he would do better applying himself to finding the solution to several of the Realm's current problems.

Even now, Sheila's head was so full of unanswered questions and her heart so happy at having Uni staying with them that she could barely even think. She felt a connection with her long gone brother whenever she was near the magical creature he had so loved. It was both wonderful and bittersweet.

And although she knew that she should be happy with this wonderful turn of events, still she yearned for more. Uni's appearance had reawakened her curiosity and yearning for her other lost friends. What was Diana and Eric doing with their lives? And Hank, especially Hank; where was he? Was he well? Was there any chance of seeing him again?

But no; that was not possible!

She was a married woman and, after all, he'd left her when she'd most needed him. Not to mention how horrified he would be to find out who her new husband was! Wouldn't that be one incredible meeting?

She entered their chambers and quickly located Venger out on the balcony. He was dressed only in his breeches, and leaning on the stone wall while looking out over the garden. The warm night air ruffled his hair even as it did her own and carried the scent of blooms from below.

It was a beautiful, romantic night; the kind that lovers always succumbed to, the kind that made her yearn to do so as well and yes; with Venger.

She didn't know then why she did it, why she had to ruin the moment, but she did. As soon as he turned to look at her, she asked him, "Will you scry Hank for me?"

"Why torture yourself by revisiting a past that can never be again?" he asked, with narrowed eyes.

"Because then my questions will all be answered and I will be able to put the past to rest," she replied.

He let go the wall and straightened to his full height. "Very well," he sighed. "Bring me the mirror."

* * *

She lay there in the dark, on his side of the bed, and stared out at the courtyard trees swaying in the breeze. She was glad that the angle from the bed prevented her from seeing the stars twinkling in the midnight sky; she couldn't deal with too much beauty after the shock she'd received. 

Venger had done as she'd asked and scried the one-time ranger for her and the mirror had shown her something very unexpected; He was married and had two very young sons.

Hank apparently hadn't wasted much time pining for her after he'd left and he and his new family had seemed to be very happy.

It had been a blow; she'd quite literally reeled from it and had been steered to a chair by one of Venger's strong arms. There she'd sat a good long while, coming to terms with the shocking new information while Venger had moved a little way away to the balcony, where he could keep an eye on her, yet give her some breathing space.

She had no idea what he thought she was thinking, but in truth, it probably wasn't anything he might imagine. Her heart had leaped with joy at seeing Hank again, but even before his new family had been revealed, she'd realized that she no longer yearned for him as she had for so long. After that, she'd been terribly hurt to find that she'd been the only one to carry a torch for any length of time and she'd been crushed to see him with two children when their own child hadn't survived. It made her feel as though she'd failed him terribly, as though she just didn't measure up to his new wife.

She barely remembered having stood up. As if in a fog, she'd retreated to the bathing room, stripped down to her shift and performed her nightly toiletries. Then she'd retreated back to the bedroom and climbed upon the bed to take up Venger's usual spot.

He'd watched her from the balcony and then stripped down to his breeches and joined her, settling behind her with a soft sigh. The night was warm, despite the breezed through the open doorways and she hadn't bothered to crawl beneath the covers. She hadn't had to; as expected, Venger extended his right wing over her. It provided all the warmth she really needed.

Neither of them had spoken since the mirror went dark and here she lay, with him beside her, although it was not his scheduled night to sleep. She only knew he was awake by the intermittent movement of his fingers where they rested on her stomach. He hadn't mentioned Hank or even that she'd taken his side in their bed.

It was then she realized that whether it bothered Venger or not that she still had feelings for her ex, he'd put her ahead of himself and opted to simply offer her his silent support. Even now he moved his arm and she felt his fingers start combing through her hair as he attempted to ease her into sleep.

She rolled over to face him, surprising him with her unexpected motion. In the dim light of the room she could see him watching her warily.

"What is it my dear?" he asked.

She reached up to brush his hair back and noted how his eyes closed and he seemed to melt at her touch. He wasn't as unaffected by her as he sometimes pretended.

It amazed her at how clear some things suddenly became. He loved her.

Venger loved her.

He hadn't proved it with words or empty gestures; he'd proved it by putting her needs ahead of his own whenever he could... and by patiently waiting for her to realize it for herself.

And she loved him as well. Somehow, seeing Hank, she'd felt how completely he'd been replaced in her heart by her once and future mate.

"I want you," she stated.

He audibly caught his breath as his wing clung to her more tightly. Seconds ticked by while he searched her eyes. "Why now?" he finally asked.

"Because I realize that I love you," came her honest answer.

He rose up over her, tucking her beneath him and kissing her until her head swam and she was dizzy with desire. Although heavy enough to smother her should he collapse, he held his weight on his arms so that she remained comfortably wedged beneath him.

When he lifted his head, she opened her eyes to find him watching her intently, his breath ragged.

"Tell me this has nothing to do with the ranger," he rumbled.

"What?"

"Tell me that you do not seek to even things with him by mating with me," he clarified.

Sheila froze. In a way she supposed it was a matter of moving forward to prove to herself that she didn't care about Hank and his new wife. As she thought it through, Venger continued to study her, everything about him tense, as he awaited her answer.

Finally she shook her head. "No, it isn't that. I just finally feel free to move on with my life. He was my past, but you're my present and my future."

With a growl, he rolled onto his back, taking her with him so that she found herself sprawled over him as he pulled her down to kiss him, then rumbled near her ear, "Yes, I am your future; of that neither of us can have any doubts. As to your statement that you love and want me; convince me."

She tensed up, suddenly anxious in the face of so intimate a challenge. Staring down into those strange, ancient eyes, she felt foolish, stupid and far too young. How was she, who knew so little, supposed to impress someone with many lifetimes experience?

He reached up to stroke her hair and surprised her by whispering, "It's all right; we will wait a while. Sheila, you're clearly not ready yet, but you should know that you could never disappoint me."

Venger tried to pull her down for another kiss, but she stopped him.

"You're wrong," she said quietly. "I am ready and I can prove it to you with words if not with actions." He looked at her quizzically as she continued, "I know the truth about you. I know that you were never more than half human; that your mother was a fiend."

"How can you know this?" he asked, looking stricken.

"The part of Kareena that lives on within my ring told me," she answered. "And because of that, I know that you've never been comfortable with what you are, yet that should not be so! I've seen who you really are; who the man trapped within this form is and once was, long ago, before he lost his soul and was cursed. You will never be fully human; when the curse is lifted, you will appear to me in your true form, but you need not fear that. When that day comes, I will rejoice because it will be you; no more, no less. I don't want illusions. I do not want lies. All I want is you... as you truly are."

His stricken look was replaced with one of amazement. "Can this be?" he asked.

She nodded. "Everything that has happened in the last few weeks has pointed me towards the truth; that you are again yourself, that you love me and that you are unselfish in your love. Besides, I find the wings very attractive, so what's not to like about a half fiend husband?"

His eyes actually seemed to well up as he watched her and then he had her in a vice-like hug and was kissing her desperately.

"Venger?" she asked when he let her up for air.

"I love you," he confessed. "How could I not, when you show such faith in me? I am not and never will be one who bares his soul or speaks often of what is on his mind, but for you I will try to be less secretive. Can you live with me as I am?"

She nodded and then husked, "Now, show me how much you love me... please?"

"Are you begging?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I suppose that I am."

With a growl, he rolled them over once more, his sharp nails quickly shredding and stripping off her shift as he ravished her neck with his mouth.

Sheila found herself arching against him and panting under the onslaught of his passion. He seemed barely in control of himself as he quickly moved to suckle and tease her nipples, one hand already exploring her sex.

As she moaned and squirmed beneath him, trying to reach more of him with her own hands, he held her fast beneath the weight of his upper torso and kept his hips out of her reach. After a time, to her surprise, he broke off his attentions to bring one finger up to his mouth, quickly biting off his claw and spitting it across the room. Then he was kissing her as he used his denuded finger to stroke and tease her cleft.

Shortly after, that same finger slipped inside her, plumbing her depths as she bucked and cried out, wanting more. She was so close, yet he seemed to intentionally be holding back; making her wait though it cost him as well. His breath was ragged and he groaned each time she cried out her pleasure.

"Venger! Please! Please, let me touch you!" she nearly sobbed.

His grin was brilliant, even in the darkened room, as he relented, rolling slightly away from her and pulling her along with him so that they were on their sides facing one another.

She wasted little time in running her hands over the huge chest muscles that helped power his wings and from there down his belly. She loosened the ties to his breeches, caressing his erection the moment it was released. He shuddered and let out a long, drawn-out rumble. He grew even harder as she explored him, her other hand snaking down to cup and play his large testicles.

All the while, she became more desperate for him as flashes of memory beleaguered her. She remembered him holding her up in the air after she'd accepted his proposal, and she remembered the first time they'd loved. She remembered so many important moments in their previous lives together, yet it was as though she were watching them on film, not living them, not feeling them. She was aching to make a real memory with him, to feel him...

Suddenly very bold, she rose to her knees, pushed him onto his back and stripped off his breeches, but before she could climb upon him as she so badly wished to, he had her beneath him again, his wings tenting around them and blocking out even the moonlight.

In the dark warmth of his embrace, his breath was hot on her shoulder as he parted her legs. She felt him press against her, ready to complete their union and she moaned impatiently.

He gripped her hair, though not roughly as his hips tilted in readiness. "You are mine, little thief! No matter where you go, I will find you and not even death shall part us or keep me from you this time!" he vowed passionately, tugging her hair. "Swear yourself to me!"

"I am yours!" she gasped, arching up against him in her desire.

Will a growl he took her; sliding into her until she pressed her hands against his hips to stop him, gasping with the shock of his size.

For a moment fear surged, as she remembered what he'd done to her previous self, but he stopped immediately and kissed her tenderly, waiting for her to adjust before moving gently against her. Almost immediately, she relaxed and soon began moving with him as her pleasure built.

He felt the change in her and changed his rhythm and angle, providing more friction, more pressure and driving her to the very edge of bliss. All it took to push her over was him calling her name and the knowledge that he was pleading; he was so close himself.

She opened her mouth to scream as she spasmed, but he stifled her cries and his own with a desperate kiss as he thrust one last time and spilled himself within her.

Seconds passed as he alternately groaned and kissed her and as she sighed and stroked his cheek, his shoulders, his lower back.

Many minutes later, he withdrew from her, rolled over and tucked her against him, wrapping her in his warm wings.

She'd finally caught her breath and suddenly she began giggling, drawing a raised eyebrow and a puzzled look from him.

"Did I do something amusing?" he groused.

She shook her head. "I was just wondering if you still think that being married is only slightly better than being dead?"

To her surprise, he roared with laughter until he finally wiped tears from his eyes and managed to compose himself. "Not at all, my wife," he replied. "On the contrary; I believe that I shall have no objections to being at your beck and call."

"Oh, so you think I might turn into a nag?" she hissed, pretending to be angry.

"Do so and I will change you into an old mare so that your exterior matches your disposition," he warned, his smirk and the quick peck he gave her the only signs at all that he might be joking.

She hugged him tightly and kissed his chest and then was almost instantly asleep.

**To be continued... **


End file.
